


Beyond Life

by Tovaras



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Character Growth, Character Study, Emotional Hurt, F/M, Hurt, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-21
Updated: 2017-11-05
Packaged: 2018-03-18 21:58:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 28
Words: 91,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3585546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tovaras/pseuds/Tovaras
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It is not easy, being brought up in a nation of ideals and ideas one does not agree with, being something you cannot control and being forced to doing things you cannot do.<br/>For Dorian Pavus, being the legacy and repository of his family's hopes and dreams is certainly a burden he cannot carry, especially when everything they want for him, is things he cannot stand.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue - The Start

**Author's Note:**

> Iiiiii was not going to do this. Said it many times that I was not going to do this.  
> ... Look how well that went!  
> So, for those who know my fanfic Sentinel, this will be a very similar style piece, where I try to deconstruct the character that is Dorian Pavus, add my own head-cannons based on the very subtle hints that is given to us during the game.  
> I have no idea how long this will be, it will follow the game's storyline closely and feature my male Maxwell Trevelyan, who is a mage as well.

It was the year 9:11 Dragon and for many, life would be given and taken.  
For one household, the repository of their hopes and dreams was expected at any moment. For them, a legacy would be born.

It had been a long nine months of waiting, but when the Lady Pavus gripped at her beddings in the early mornings, her hoarse voice gasping that her water had broken, the entire household knew what was happening.

The long awaited heir of the House of Pavus was finally deciding to join the world of the living.

What had once been a quiet mansion was now busting with life, servants running back and forward in order to fetch the needed items for the upcoming birth; warm water, silks, smelling salts, herbs and of course, the healers.  
They all moved fast, but the child was impatient, all to eager to escape his mother's womb and see the world.

Lady Pavus was already standing when the healers arrived a mere twenty minutes after the first cry of pain had escaped her. She was supported by her servants, her face red and sweaty, fists gripping hard at the sheets as she focused on breathing.  
On her husband's side of the bed the silken sheets, at least what remained of them, were blackened from a fire she had lit while the cramps took her.

Halward Pavus at least hoped it had been accidental and not his wife's intention to light him on fire.  
Either way, the fire had quickly been dealt with and all the focus was brought to the birthing mother-to-be.

It wouldn't be long now.

When thinking about it, it was a miracle in itself that they were expecting.  
Lord and Lady Pavus had been trying for months to conceive a child before the healers had been able to confirm the good news.  
Now their little miracle was on its way and rather impatiently so, one of the healer had mused while trying to calm the worried father-to be.  
Lord Pavus had chuckled, but Lady Pavus has been less than amused, screaming out a few well-chosen words in Tevene that made Lord Pavus blush on her behalf.

"It is understandable," the healer had said, giving Lord Pavus a reassuring smile.  
"She is trying to press out something the size of a ball out of an opening no bigger than a copper-coin."

Halward could only sympathize with his wife. While he did not love her in the traditional sense, he still cared for her.

Time would do that.

The birth itself was a long process, even if the unborn child seemed to be impatient to see the world. Hours passed as Lady Pavus pushed, screaming out bloody murder while the healers did their best to soothe her aches and pains.  
At one point she had to lay down, the exhausting clear on her face, but she was nothing if not stubborn. And Halward knew she was healthy and strong, confident that she would pull through.

Almost a full day would pass before the birth was finally over, but the result was not quite as expected.  
Instead of the sound of crying from a newly born baby, only the sounds of the mother's panting and whimpers of pain were heard.

The child was silent and unmoving.

They had believed the child to be stillborn at first. The lack of crying and movement bringing a moment of horror into the household. They had tried for so long, had waited with anticipation for this moment to come, only to seemingly have it snatched away.  
But then, after quick actions from healers and with a few proper slaps to the babe's backside to bring up fluids, the room was filled with the sound of loud crying.  
Perhaps that is where the boy's later fascination with death came from, having been caressed by it even before he had taken his first breath of life-giving air.

Tears of joy and relief streamed down both mother and father's cheeks as the baby was cleaned with water and oils, the cord cut with a silver knife before he was wrapped in silk and handed to the mother, the healers congratulating them with their new son.  
She smiled and cooed at her newborn baby-boy, and for a moment one could mistake the household of that of a proper family, with a husband and wife that loved one another and had just been blessed with a child.

"What will you name the child," the healer asked as the child was passed to Magister Pavus, allowing her to tend to the exhausted mother.

"Dorian," Magister Pavus said, looking down at the baby with a fond smile.

The boy was perfect in every way, from the stubby nose, the wisps of dark hair, the bronze skin, even the small dark beauty-mark by his right eye; a mark inherited by his mother as she had one at the same location.  
Ten fingers, ten toes, two large eyes that were currently closed, a wide yawn escaping the tiny mouth.

"His name is Dorian. Dorian of house Pavus."


	2. Expectations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Dorian starts to learn exactly what is wanted from him, but not understand what he needs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As it has finally been revealed that Dorian was born in 9:11 (I was two years off! *fistinair*), I changed the date on the first chapter as well as making slight alterations to this chapter, having originally planned to have Dorian be ten instead of nine, but based on new information on his upbringing, I am slowly fitting the pieces together.  
> Hopefully you will enjoy the image I am slowly creating by doing this! :D

Despite the boy's dramatic arrival, Dorian would quickly prove to be a healthy and strong baby, quickly growing and thriving under the tender care of his parents and the nannies watching him.  
As time would show, dramatic entries would become somewhat of a habit for him, especially as he reached adulthood.

The first time Dorian accidentally set a table-cloth on fire, the house of Pavus had thrown a large party in the honour of the boy, especially considering that the boy had been a mere two years of age.  
It was an accident, of course, something the boy could not control and could not repeat on purpose, but it showed the power of the magic that was running through his veins.

It was everything his parents could hope for and showed great promise for the future.

As Dorian grew and turned older, his nannies would praise him for how bright he was, so ready to learn and eager to please.  
He also had a love of books, absorbing the stories the nannies and his mother read to him when he went to bed; stories about far away lands, brave knights, powerful magisters, dragons and legends. He would learn them by heart, ask to have his favourites read to him over and over so he could look at the pictures, even chastise the reader if they skipped a part or didn't read it properly.  
Soon he would learn to read on his own, to his mother and father's great pride as they watched their son sit by the fireplace, clad in black and golden robes, his nose in a book that was normally too advanced for a child his age.

Of course, with the newfound talent came the lessons and private tutors to further educate the boy’s skills in reading and eventually writing and maths.  
Magister Pavus handled Dorian's training with magic personally at first, but by the time the boy was six, a private tutor was hired to help educate him in being responsible with his abilities. And with the lessons came the expectations. 

They were modest at first as Dorian was only six years of age when the lessons started to become serious.  
Read a page a day loudly without stumbling over the words too much.  
Copy a page of written text to work on his penmanship before he had to write a small text of his own without too many spelling errors, preferably none.  
Papers with numbers of his tutors choosing that Dorian had to add or subtract correctly to get the correct amount.  
Being able to summon fire and work on controlling it the best he could.

Dorian was rewarded, of course, for his successes, but the older he got, the fewer rewards he would get. The accomplishments became expectations, something he was supposed to know and be able to do. And those things were not rewarded because it was the way it was supposed to be.  
Of course, if Dorian exceeded his parents and tutors expectations, he would be rewarded and Dorian quickly learned to work to do just that. Not because he wanted extra rewards, but because of his father and mother's proud smiles. He had everything he could ever want as it was; toys, books, nice clothes, but he was also a lonely child, his company mostly that of his tutors, his nannies or the family's servants or slaves. More often than not he would play by himself and actually spending time with his parents outside of meals was a rarity.  
But this was how things worked and Dorian had known nothing but this lifestyle so he never questioned it. He merely appreciated it when he actually could spend time with his parents as well as see those proud smiles on their faces.  
As rewards, his parents would take him on trips all over Thedas, letting him see the world. Nevarra, Orlais, Anderfels, Antiva, Free Marches. He had visited so many places, but he could barely remember any of them because what he remembered the best was the time spent with his parents.

As so Dorian would continue to work hard for his parents’ approval, blossoming under the care of his tutors and nannies until he reached the age of nine.  
By then, he was already well-versed in the social life of a Tevinter mage, having attended many a grand ball and social gathering. He was well spoken and polite when talked to, but mostly he was merely standing next to his mother and father in silence, watching as the adults talked and behaved.  
Sometimes another child would be brought along and he would have someone his own age to talk to. It was nice, though at the same time it felt strange, like they were pretending to be older than they were. The children were also aware of their own social status and Dorian knew that his status were quite high. Or rather, that his family's status were high. He had been told so many a times during the few times he had tried to play with the children of slaves and servants, being told that it was "beneath him" to play with them.

It was at his ninth birthday that Dorian would start to learn just how his homelands worked and what was expected of him.  
Being an only-child, his parents had done much to make sure that Dorian would grow up with an edge in life. Much was expected of him and while they loved their son dearly, it was shown in lessons of responsibility as well as nobility.

Before the gathering would start, Dorian was washed and cleaned before he was dressed in a set of new robes, made for this special occasion.  
Black and gold, as was be the custom amongst the Tevinter nobility, but the cut was different than his other robes. The silken robes themselves were more like a jacket, closing over his chest, and then opening past the belt around his waist. A smaller cloak were wrapped around his shoulder, ending just over the elbow of his arm and attached to the throat, handing behind his head, was a hood. The robe was embroidered with golden patterns around the edges and the sleeves, though on the back of his robes were the Pavus symbol; two snakes entwined over a diamond.  
Silken, black breeches, black, fingerless gloves and solid black-leather boots were added to complete the picture and when Dorian looked at himself in the mirror, he hardly recognized himself.  
His hair, recently cut, was slicked back with water and oils, and the servants had added kohl around his eyes, making them look more intense. 

A warm hand was put on his shoulder and Dorian didn't need to look up to know who the owner was. He could see his mother's reflection in the mirror and he watched as she kneeled down next to him, the hand still on his shoulder and the other stroking down his cheek.  
She was as dressed up he was, though instead of robes she had opted for a black, frilly dress, which was decorated with beautiful golden patterns.  
Her black hair was curled and put up, leaving the dark strands as a frame around the golden-brown and sharp face. She wasn't wearing a lot of make-up, preferring simple tricks to enhance her natural beauty, but her eyelashes were long and dark, her eyes framed with black kohl and her lips pained dark-red.

Her eyes were not on herself though. She was looking at Dorian.  
"Look at you, my beautiful boy," she murmured, the dark-red lips tugged into a warm smile, the grey eyes looking at their reflection. "Nine years old already. How time flies."

Dorian merely nodded, swallowing hard as he let his eyes meet his mother's in the mirror. He tried to see what his mother was seeing, but all he could see was himself all glossed up.  
Nine years old; he was still young, but he was also still growing, of course.  
Still changing.  
His face had lost most of its puppy-fat, leaving it narrower, sharper. Even with kohl, his eyes seemed big to him, almost too big for his head. Beautiful was a big word. He understood it, but he couldn't see it.  
Boys weren't supposed to be beautiful, not according to the stories. They were supposed to be handsome, powerful.

Then again, he couldn't really see that either.

"Are there many people coming, mother," he asked instead, his voice still light.

"Of course," Lady Pavus replied, letting the tips of her fingers linger by the beauty mark by Dorian's eye. "You are growing fast, my little prince. It is not that long ago since you curled against me in bed, scared by the things you saw in the fade when you slept."

"Mother," Dorian said weakly, the bronze-cheeks reddening as his shoulders slumped some. 

Lady Pavus merely chuckled, pressing a kiss to Dorian's cheek, leaving a dark-red smudge on his skin. Dorian grimaced some and reached up to wipe it away with the sleeve of his robes, only to have his hand slapped down.  
"Don't you dirty out your new robes," his mother scolded before she snapped her fingers.  
"Misha. Misha, come here with that cloth. Dip it in some water," she ordered at the elven girl behind them, busy with cleaning up after Dorian's bath.  
A quick "Yes, my Lady," was the only answer from her before the girl came up next to them, offering Lady Pavus the cloth. The Lady took it gently from the girl's hands before giving her a dismissing nod, allowing her to go back to her previous duties.  
"You must look your best today, Dorian," Lady Pavus said sharply, bringing the cloth to Dorian's cheek, rubbing it until the red lipstick mark had been replaced with reddening skin. "So no show-off with spells you haven't practiced. No water or ice-spells, it leaves such a mess. And no fire."

The look from his mother was enough to make Dorian shrink somewhat, his hands tugging nervously at his own sleeves. "Yes, mother. No fire."  
He remember the last time he had tried to impress other kids his age with fire. ... They had certainly been impressed, alright; especially with how fast it spread and how much damage it had done to the outhouse.  
The adults, not so much, though Magister Pavus had let out a chuckle and murmured something about "Boy-ish pranks."  
Dorian mostly remembered the rapping his fingers had gotten from his tutors for his foolish belief that he could control a spell so large. "You may be talented, boy," the man had said in a hard voice, waving the stick in Dorian's face. "But you are no master of the arts yet. Until you are able to control and use that magic of yours, you are about as strong and useful as being a Laetans."  
For someone who has been told that he was an Altus, this was an insult, a threat and a punishment, all wrapped in one, powerful word. 

"My darling boy, there is no need for your lips to sag downwards now," Lady Pavus said, placing her fingers under Dorian's chin and tilted his head up.  
"Just behave yourself. There will be boys and girls your age coming and they are all here to see how far you have come. And you will get the chance to show that off to everybody."

"Yes, mother."

"That's my darling boy," Lady Pavus murmured as she released Dorian's face and instead smoothed her own, black and golden dress down, marking sure her own appearance was perfect.  
"Go downstairs when you hear the bell. It is almost time. And remember to behave."

Dorian merely nodded and watched in the mirror as his mother turned and left the room, leaving him alone with the elven servant.  
It was almost time...  
Dorian knew very well that it was just his birthday party. So why did it sound so much like he was going down to face something dangerous? When he tried to think about it, Dorian wasn't sure when birthday parties had gone from being fun to becoming a trial.

He would be much, much older when he realised that parties were like an arena were battles of wits sharper than swords, tongues of silver and the weight of words would count more than anything.

Thankfully, nine-year olds didn't need to learn about the Game just yet.  
He didn't need to learn the weight of what he said, measure what was told to him, either by a whisper to the ear, behind his back or directly to his face.  
Words could hurt, that much he knew, but he did not know that words could kill yet.

Dorian of house Pavus was turning nine years of age when he left his bedroom at the sound of the dinner-bell, walking down the grand stairs of the mansion to be greeted by honoured guests; adults he barely knew and their children, some of mentioned children he barely remembered.

The setting was familiar. He had attended many parties and soirées with his parents, held here at their estate and at other families’ mansions and estates.  
The children that had come to this party was as dressed up as he was, standing close to their parents as they watched him, offering their congratulations as they bowed or curtsied in front of him.  
Presents were offered too, of course, right before the feast itself would start. Grand ones, but by tradition, Dorian did not open a single one himself. That was for the slaves to handle for him, as his hands were above it. Instead they were uncovered in front of him and presented with the name of the family who gifted it and Dorian would thank them after inspecting them.  
They were grand present, worthy of the Scion of House Pavus; silken robes, jewels and rings, rare books of magic and, as was fitting, staffs for him to practice his given talent. One family had even gifted him a horse, a magnificent black steed that was waiting for him in the stables, but of course Dorian couldn't go up and touch it. That would have to wait.  
He couldn't be walking around, risking smelling of horse after all, even if the animal stank more of perfume than he did.  
The biggest presents that were given to him, however, were the gifts from his parents. He had gotten many presents from them already; jewels, clothes, books, but they had hidden what they believed were the bests to last.

Dorian Pavus, at only age nine, had been granted enrolment at the prestigious Circle of Magi in Carastes, a school that would surely make him the envy of many of his peers.  
He was young, talented, and would attend school with students older than himself, but Lord Pavus was certain that his son would master it without problems.  
For Dorian, he was only felt with a feeling of dread in his stomach, even as he clenched his lips together and forced a smile.

The second present from his mother and father was the introduction of a girl who Dorian had barely greeted when the party had started.  
Livia Herathinos.  
His betrothed since birth.  
He wasn’t sure exactly what betrothed meant, but when he was encouraged to walk over to her and take her hand, even kiss it and wish him welcome, the dread he felt in his stomach was accompanied by a wave of nausea.  
While he wasn’t sure what betrothed was, he did know what a girlfriend was and he did _not_ want a girlfriend, and if Livia’s expression was anything to go by, she did not want a boyfriend. At least not him.

After the presents have been handed out and the appropriate thanks had been given, it was time for the main feast.  
Dorian, as was expected of him, was seated in the middle, at the centre of attention, Livia sitting to his right and his parents sitting on either side of them, trying his best to make small-talk. Rather, he answered when talked to and when his mother asked him rather stern, informative questions, would offer his own question to who-ever of the nobility the information was about.  
It was also at the age of nine that Dorian had been allowed his first proper glass of wine, which was a strange delight to him, making him feel even more grown up. He had been given sips before from his father's wine-glass from time to time, but he had never had a glass of his own before. It tasted awful and it burned on the way down his throat, but he still drank it, sneakily killing the aftertaste with a goblet of cinnamon and apple cider.

Being the centre of attention, as much as he enjoyed it, it also exhausted him. It was hard, smiling pleasantly as he spoke, being attentive and showing interest, especially when the adults spoke of matters that were far above him. They spoke of his future, the path he was supposed to go, what he was to do and all he could do was smile and nod even though he didn't understand exactly what this path was or where it was leading him.  
Thankfully, as soon as the dinner was over with, Dorian was free to leave the table to socialize where the other children had gathered. Of course, they couldn't play like, say, the servants children played: running around, screaming, playing tag or kicking a ball.  
Oh, no. They were children of nobility, of status, and they could not be caught doing something like that. Instead, several board-games and cards had been put out for them to enjoy in a calmer and dignified fashion.  
Not that Dorian minded. He actually liked board-games, especially chess. Unlike card-games that were mostly up to luck, chess was a game that was testing your own skills against someone else's.  
Besides, engaging in chess or some other board game made it easier for him to avoid Livia.

Of course, their reaction to loss was not always as dignified and no matter how noble and proper they tried to be, they were children. And it wasn't like Dorian had meant to punch Magister Florianus' son for calling him a cheater, but when the boy had started pointing fingers and calling him a cheater, especially when Dorian had not cheated, had caused Dorian's temper to rise.  
Then again, Dorian wasn’t entirely innocent in the argument either. He probably didn’t have to flaunt how good he was at chess at the start, or call the boy slow or laugh at the moves he made with his pieces.  
Still, calling Dorian a cheater had been completely uncalled for, at least in the young mage’s mind. He had asked the boy to stop first, asked him to take it back, but when the boy had flipped the board towards Dorian, he had responded in kind, calling him a "stinkin' liar" as his fist had flown towards the boy’s rather large nose.  
He had apologized to the crying boy, his mother's hand gripping painfully tight on his shoulder and while Magister Florianus had reassured them that everything was forgiven, despite the boy clinging to his mother's robes, tears mixing with the blood running down his nose. His son had been temperamental all day, the Magister had said, and would get a stern talking-to when they came home. He even complimented Dorian for the strength behind the punch, grinning slightly as he said he was just glad he hadn't set his son on fire.  
Despite the Magisters calm reaction to it all, Dorian knew that his parents would not be as forgiving.

As soon as the party was over with and the guests had left, Dorian received a proper talking-to from both his mother and father. From the second they opened their mouths, Dorian looked down, not able to look at their disappointed faces as they told him how embarrassing it had been that he had lost his temper like that, that they had not raised their son to be like a "southern barbarian" by using his fists to resolve an argument.  
During the talk, he didn't say anything, just keeping his eyes fixated on the floor, nodding his head weakly when he felt it was appropriate. He listened carefully to every word and when his father had told him to go to his room he had done so, not once looking up at them. 

When Dorian entered his room, a servant had already lit several candles to brighten it up, but he was alone in there. Most likely part of his punishment, he guessed, as he closed the door behind him and walked over to the small washing basinet.  
It was already filled with hot water, ready for him to use it to clean his face and when he looked at his face in the mirror, he could tell it was needed.  
His hair was still slicked back, not a single strand of hair out of place, but he had apparently started crying at some point because black lines were running from his eyes, down his cheeks.

He hadn't even noticed it.

The sight made him grimace and he quickly scrubbed his face hard with the cloth left for him before undressing, tossing his robes angrily into a corner. He was almost tempted to set them on fire, after several minutes of just staring at the black garments, he settled for putting on his night-shirt and climbing into bed, just wanting to sleep and let the day finally be over with.

Dorian tried to swallow away the lump that had formed in his throat, trying to ignore the prickling behind his eyes as the thoughts he so desperately wanted to forget were popping into his mind.  
His insides were hurting along with his head and he just felt bad. He had disappointed his parents on a day that were supposed to be special for him and them.

Dorian had turned nine years of age when he had gotten his first proper scolding from his parents; the disappointment on their faces would forever be an image that would haunt his mind.

As he grew older, he would become accustomed to that look.


	3. An Unruly Savant

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Dorian starts feeling the chains as they slowly coil around him.

Despite Dorian’s love for books, his love for learning and his desire to please his parents, the young boy quickly realised that no matter what he did, it would never be good enough.

He had, and still was, praised for his magical talent, his abilities and his smarts, but what had once been praise were now expectations.  
He was expected to excel, expected to do well. He was expected to graduate the Circle of Magi with honours, to become a full-fledged enchanter before marrying his betrothed and preparing to take over his father’s place in the Magisterium and as a consiliare for the Archon.

They had told him grand stories about the Circle of Carastes, explaining that it was a school that were only for the best of mages and what an honour it was for him to be enrolled to take part of its grand legacy.  
A legacy, they said, they were sure Dorian would add to.

Not once had they asked what Dorian wanted and not once had Dorian tried to tell them, not quite daring to protest his parents’ wishes.  
His path was set in stone and while a possibly good future was waiting for him down that path, he could already see the chains that were laid out for him.  
With each step he took, he would become more capture until the chains were so tight around him that he couldn’t breathe. It did not matter that the path was paved in gold, that there was riches, honour, respect and power awaiting him. The burden was already so heavy and he just couldn’t understand why. He couldn’t understand the tightness in his chest, the way a scream was building up inside him, but without an outlet, it would just keep on growing and growing until it hurt.

Dorian was hurting and as far as he understood it, he was supposed to.  
He had to, in order to make his parents proud of him.

It hadn’t been that long ago that the thought of going to school, to mingle with people his own age, was something he had longed for.  
Now, as the carriage was taking him to the grand school, all Dorian could see was another thing he had to excel in, despite the fact that it had been a present from his father.  
Another chain added to the path.

This was to be his home now, his mother had told him as they travelled towards the Circle.  
Only temporary, of course, she added with a soft smile. Dorian’s home would always be in Qarinus and he could come visit during breaks whenever he wanted.  
Dorian didn’t feel the enthusiasm, but still offered his mother a half-smile before settling back into staring through the window, trying to swallow away the bad taste that was forming in his mouth.

Only when the carriage stopped and Dorian got his first proper look at the grand stone structure, that his tongue loosened enough to say something.  
It was low, a mere whisper, but the boy’s eyes revealed just how vulnerable he was as he looked up at his parents. 

“Mother. Father. … Do I have to go?”

_‘I don’t want to go.’_

But Lord and Lady Pavus had merely smiled, his father’s big, warm hand placing itself on his shoulder, giving it a squeeze.  
“It is a big step, my son,” Lord Pavus had said. “It is scary to be away from home, I know, but it will be fine. You will love it here. You will get the chance to learn even more about magic and Tevinter here. Just remember who you are and what brought you here.”

Maybe those words where the reason why Dorian was so set on _hating_ it.

He wasn’t at the Circle because he had chosen it.  
He was at the Circle because of his magic and because of his name.  
Nothing more.

And so it was with heavy steps that Dorian walked up to the grand, oaken door with his parents, ready to take his place amongst sons of Magisters and on the path to become one himself.

A small, skinny boy with a mop of blank, silken hair and big, grey eyes placed in the middle of a narrow, tanned face.  
A boy that had only recently reached the age of nine, dressed in his fine, though practical robes to show his status, small hands gripping hard at a staff that had been gifted to him at his birthday. It was a pretty staff, made out of polished black wood wrapped with leather for a better grip, adorned with a silver-coloured metal crafted into a snake, with its tail wrapped around the top of the staff before standing up, mouth open. It had been his favourite out of all the staffs gifted to him, the one that felt the best in his hand.  
Along with this, he was also bringing with him a small chest carried by a servant that was packed with his belongings, things he would need in order to excel both academically and when it came to socializing; books, robes, expensive inks, parchments and quills made of the feather of rare birds from other countries.  
In between the robes and books, Dorian had packed his own trinkets: a wooden duck with wheels that had been a gift from the elven family that served his own, his favourite story-book, and a slightly worn out night-shirt that was getting too short at the arms, but that had been made of silks from Nevarra.  
Small things to make him feel a little better as he attended school.

It was to be his home now, for the time being, and he had no choice than to try and make the best of it.

And Dorian had tried at the start.  
Maker knew he had tried, but he quickly found out that he just didn’t fit in.

Because he was talented and bright, he was put in classes with boys three or four years older than himself, and even then he was showing far more progress than they were. He didn’t ask for it, he never had, and while there was a sense of pride swelling inside him, he could also feel the looks.  
He was merely a boy, surrounded by boys close to or already in their first teen years. Boys on their first steps towards manhood. He didn’t have friends here; he knew that, so he did the only thing he could.

“Never let them see that you are scared,” his father had once told him when they had started his first lessons with magic.  
“Never let them see that you are uncertain, insecure. Stand tall; know that you have what it takes. Show them that you do. Show that words and looks do not have any power of you.”

Words that were surely meant to make Dorian feel more secure, more confident, but instead of using it as a shield, Dorian wielded them like a weapon.  
He would take them, before they could take him.  
He was their better, that is what he had been told, and he would show them that.

He was an Altus. Son of a Magister that was greatly respected and envied. The scion of his household.  
He tried not to think about the taste those thoughts left in his mouth as he tried to make himself larger than he was.

Praised by his tutors, but shunned by his peers, Dorian felt himself being torn in two directions, that feeling of wanting people to be _proud_ of him fighting with the feeling of not feeling good enough. The feeling of being judged.

Maybe that is why he hardly felt remorse when he was guided to solitary confinement within the Circle to think about what he had done, the Templar’s leather-gloved hand clasped hard on his shoulder to prevent him from running off.

Not that Dorian was planning to.

He knew that he shouldn’t have burned the boy as much as he had, should have held himself back, but he was just so mad so he couldn’t help himself.  
He didn’t voice his anger as he was guided away, nor did he deny what he had done. He took full responsibility, at least as much as he could.

The boy, a student two years older than him, had butted heads with Dorian almost from the start. They often argued about who’s father was the mightiest or which one of them was the most skilled.  
After a particular low blow against Dorian’s age and that it was his father’s money that had gotten him into the school, Dorian had been set on showing the boy that he was wrong.

Nobody could argue that he had indeed shown the boy just that, especially after the boy had slammed hard against the wall from a particularly powerful fireball conjured by Dorian.  
Dorian himself had escaped with minor dirt-marks on his robes and a small cut over his forehead.

“Please wait here until we fetch you,” the Templar said as he opened the door to the room Dorian would be confined in, releasing Dorian’s shoulder and gesturing for him to go inside.

“How long am I to stay in there?” Dorian asked, looking up at the Templar, squinting some as he tried to get a read on the man’s face from the shadows of his helmet.

“Until a senior enchanter comes to fetch you.”

“Can I at least get a book to read?”

“There are books in the room for you to read.”

Dorian wrinkled his nose some as he looked at the room.  
He knew that solitary was meant to be a form of punishment, but as sons and daughters of powerful Magisters, nobody was willing to do something to risk their wrath.  
Instead, the rooms were small, but comfortable, with a soft-looking bed, a small shelf with books, and a small table with a candle. The only thing that really screamed confinement, save from the fact that they couldn’t leave the room, was that the window was as high up as the ceiling was, barred and barely big enough for someone very small to slider out, if not for the mention bars.  
Dorian really couldn’t tell the difference between this room and being sent to his room back home as he stepped inside, but then again, the young lord Pavus had not really tasted hardship just yet.

He would in time.

With a final look at the templar, Dorian stepped into the room, turning just in time to see the door being shut behind him, leaving the room semi-dark.  
Dorian was not afraid of the dark so he walked over to the table and lit the candle with a flick from his hand, nursing the flame until it was strong enough to illuminate the room properly.

The room’s selection of books were not impressive, but Dorian found a book to read after a few minutes of just looking at the worn-looking spines, selecting the most interesting one he could find.  
He made himself comfortable on the bed, sitting up at the head of it and opening the book on his lap so he could start reading, bracing himself for a long night.

It would take two days before Dorian realised just how much trouble he was in as he stared at a door that would not open.  
By the time the senior enchanter comes to collect him, Dorian has counted that four days has passed and he has burned twice the amount of candles to lighten up the dark room.  
The senior enchanter has been there once every day, wanting to talk to Dorian about what had happened, wanting to see if he could make him see the error in what he did, but Dorian says nothing about it.  
On the fifth day the senior enchanter comes, he does not come alone and the look Dorian gets from the very disappointed-looking man behind the enchanter is enough to make the boy look down in shame.

“Dorian. Come here.”

He doesn’t want to obey, but his body moves on his own as he slides down from his spot on the bed and walks over to his father, head still down.  
“Your belongings have already been packed. We are going back home.”

Dorian carefully looked up at his father, but he could not meet the hard, piercing eyes of Halward Pavus.  
The disappointment burned harder than any spell and for the first time, Dorian felt regret for doing what he did. Not because of the reason, but because of the final result.  
He had disappointed his father again.

“Come, Dorian.”

They left the Circle in silence, Halward staring hard into the air while Dorian looked at his feet, walking fast to keep up with his father’s own, long strides.  
Nobody came to say good bye to Dorian, no teachers and no students, but he wasn’t surprised. He had no friends here and he could tell that this was a walk of shame.

He had shamed his family.

The trip back home to Qarinus was done mostly in silence, with Dorian keeping his eyes on his hands and his father looking out the window, eyebrows pulled down in a frown.

“You have disappointed us, Dorian,” Halward finally said after hours, breaking the silence between them.  
“When we got the letter from your teacher, we didn’t want to believe it. We believed that you were better than that.”

“Father,” Dorian whispered, his voice small and thin, making him feel even smaller.

“Don’t,” Halward said sharply. “We expected better from you, Dorian. We did not expect this… Petty behaviour. Fighting with your peers? Unofficial duels to show your prowess? Disobeying rules of order? You have squandered a good opportunity and you have shamed us.”

“… I am sorry,” Dorian whispered, feeling his eyes well up. His throat and chest felt tight, making it hard to breathe, making him grasp at the front of his robes in an attempt to make that heavy feeling inside him feel less constricted.

“I do not want to hear it,” Halward snapped. “Whatever your reasons are, they are not good enough for such shameful behaviour. I know everything that happened, Dorian; I have talked to your teachers. This… This will break your mothers’ heart.”

Dorian couldn’t stop the tears as they started sliding down his cheeks, but he could stop the sobs that threatened to escape him by biting his bottom lip hard.  
He wanted to say something, but his voice wasn’t working. A lump had formed in his throat and he felt that no matter how many times he tried to swallow it, it just grew larger and larger until it felt like he was going to choke.

“I do not want to hear a word from you for the remainder of this trip, Dorian,” Halward finally said, not once having looked at his son.  
“When we come home, you are to go straight to your room until we tell you it is okay to come out.”

Dorian was about to open his mouth to answer, but settled for just nodding, too afraid to anger his father further.

The words festering inside him as the silence once again surrounded them, making it feel like Dorian was under water. His head was hurting from thinking, from contemplating everything that had been happening over the last few days, but he just didn’t get it.

His father used to praise him, he had been proud before, because Dorian was so talented with magic, but he was now angry because Dorian had showed it.  
His father had told him to be proud, had told him that he was to show everyone how good he was, but when Dorian had, it was wrong.

A small voice in his head told him that maybe, just maybe, it was the way he had done it, but Dorian couldn’t think of any other ways to show it than actually, physically, showing it. Telling it would only get you so far before someone would demand for you to show how true your words were.

The trip home took over two days and while they stopped to eat and rest, the trip was done in complete silence. The only time the silence broke was when Halward spoke to the driver, giving him orders on what to do, or when talking to the owners of the inns they stayed in.  
Dorian had been terrified to speak even a word to his father, afraid to anger him further, so he just let himself sit in the silent presence of his father, eyes cast downward. He didn’t dare speak, did not dare ask for anything even when he desperately needed the privy or was hungry.  
He remained as a ghost next to him, trying to make himself as invisible as possible, only moving or doing something when Halward told him so.

“Such an obedient lad,” one of the ladies that served them food had complimented, but that only made the lump in Dorian’s stomach harden further as Halward's expression took on a sterner look as he eyed his son with a hard look.

“He has his moments,” was the only thing said and for some reason, those words stung deeply.

Once they had finally reached home, after two days on the road, Halward stayed true to his word and after giving the slaves a couple of quick orders, he sent Dorian a stern look before pointing his finger to the stairs.  
He didn’t need to say anything in order to get his message across and Dorian obediently went up to his room.

Once inside, Dorian didn’t even bother lighting any candles, merely walking over to bed before climbing in, curling up on the silken sheets.  
He brought his hand to his mouth, curling it into a fist before biting down on his knuckles to silence the sobs that threatened to escape his mouth. There was little he could do to stop the tears that were spilling from his eyes, despite squeezing his eyes shut as hard as he could.

For the first time since he was put in solitary, Dorian felt regret about what had happened inside him, the pain in his belly coiling and twisting like a snake.  
He laid there in silence for what felt like hours, the sun slowly going down on the outside, creating long, dark shadows in his room until it was completely dark.  
His mind was spinning and he was trying to think, trying to find out exactly when he had done something wrong.

He felt stupid for not understanding what he had done wrong.  
Why was his father so mad at him? Had he not done exactly what he had been taught?  
He was acting like the other kids were, showing how good he was.

Where had he gone wrong..?


	4. Self-Destruction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Dorian is trying to find himself and not having much success.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the start of a lot of guesses, headcannons, ideas carefully fitted together with the little I know from the games and the book World of Thedas.  
> Not a lot of detail exists as to why Dorian was drifting as much as he did, nor how old he was when he ran away from the last school he attended, so I am just taking a wild stab in the dark here, based on his character, his personality and the general mindset of kids that run away from home at an early age.  
> I hope this makes sense and that it makes for an enjoyable read!

“Dorian Pavus, stop pretending you are sleeping and focus on today’s lesson!”

The voice boomed through the air like a small explosion, but the boy the statement was directed at seemed like he had barely heard of it.  
Grey eyes slowly fluttered open as he sat up properly on the chair, having balanced it on its back-legs for a good ten minutes before he had been caught.

“Perhaps, if you spoke of something of interest, I wouldn’t have to,” the young man drawled instead, smirking some as he eyed the teacher with a clear look of disinterest.  
“Though I make no promises, your voice is enough to bore anyone to sleep.”

The rod the tutor was holding slammed down over Dorian’s desk and despite his distaste for the subject in question; he didn’t think the poor book deserved that.  
“You watch your tongue, Pavus. I know your reputation and I will have you know that your attitude, or lack thereof, will not be working here.”

Dorian just tilted his head, giving the tutor another lazy look and an equally lazy smile.  
In contrast to the tutor and many of the students that were here, young Dorian was looking extremely out of place.

That is what you got from being requested to leave (or being kicked out) of most circles in Tevinter for misconduct and for being a troublemaker, he supposed.  
In fact, his reputation was so bad that even private tutors were unwilling to handle him after words have spread on how Dorian behaved.

The boy was simply too much of nuisance, to unruly to handle, something the Order of Argent was slowly starting to realise:  
The boy did not follow the school’s strict code for how you were to appear, refused to keep his hair and appearance clean-cut.  
He had burned all the robes he had been provided until the school had simply given up on forcing him to wear it because punishing him did not work.  
If letting him dress the way he wanted would mean he would actually come to class, they would allow it, especially after Dorian’s father had all but pleaded for them to overlook it, paying them a rather handsome sum to make up for the damages and to look away.

So Dorian had been “allowed” to do as he pleased and he took full advantages of it.  
The young Lord Pavus was fully aware of his reputation, having carefully added to it over the years for reasons only known to himself.  
Not only was he acting the part he had made, but he was doing his best to look the part as well: partly to intimidate, but also because he simply liked the style he had created for himself.

It had happened gradually as he grew, such as nature were, but at age sixteen, Dorian had lost almost all traces of the short, lean and fair-faced boy he used to be, having started to grow and fill out nicely.  
However, he was still not done growing; he was still fair-faced and a little on the short side compared too many of the other boys, but he made up for that in the way he dressed.  
Gone was the short, well-cut black hair, replaced with a Mohawk like style cut that covered the top of his head. From the back of his head, he had grown the hair long enough to be gathered into a ponytail or bun while the hair on the sides of his head as well as his neck had been shaven off.  
His grey eyes, having grown narrower with age, were outlined with kohl to give him a more intense stare, and there was a golden hoop going through the septum of his nose.  
He wasn’t doing well in the facial-hair department yet, but there was some scruff on his chin and up around his mouth, which he was hoping to grow out as some point. Maybe he would just grow a full beard, he had thought at one point. That would just be positively, deliciously scandalous.

His clothes were just as outrageous; a mix of black and leather with alterations and cuts of his normal Tevinter-style robes that made them unusual.  
For one, he refused to close the robe over his chest with the laces and buttons, letting a loose, black-leather belt hold it together. Underneath was a green-black silken shirt to cover up his skin, matching the black and gold in his robe. To accompany it, he wore tight leather-pants dyed black, the sides of them decorated with straps and silver buckles with boots to match the pants.  
He also started wearing black, fingerless black gloves with leather-straps fastened with large, silver clasps that were more for decoration than having any real sort of function.

“Then dazzle my mind,” Dorian drawled, drawling lazy circles on the wooden table with his finger, one eyebrow raised and his lips tugged into a smirk.  
“Give me something to sink my teeth into instead of droning on about the Maker and Andraste and her saggy tits.”

He didn’t have time to pull his hand away as the rod came down again, hitting him hard over the knuckles and making a pained gasp escape him.  
“Your tongue does you no credit, Pavus. Your family name means nothing here, nor does your status. You will follow this school’s rules and obey the orders you are given.”

“Like I obey the dress-code,” Dorian bit out, rubbing his abused knuckles, but trying his best to keep the shit-eating grin on his face; he knew that was the best way to downright infuriate the teachers.

He wasn’t too surprised that he was told to sit back after class, only to be lectured and yelled at for a good long time before he was sent to his room.  
It was a song he was learning by heart now and he was taking as much from it this time as he had all the other times, which was absolutely nothing.

In all honesty, he wasn’t sure exactly when he had just stopped caring…

He knew he had cared when his family has sent him to a new Circle after what had happened in Carastes; he had tried to do better there, but it seemed like he just wasn’t able to fit in.  
The Circle in Carastes had shaken something in him, making him terrified of making mistakes and because he was trying so hard, his temper had grown worse. It didn’t help that his father’s words and disappointed face was burned into his memory and it created a strain in the young boy.  
He had only lasted two months before the Circle sent him back for violent outburst on students. “Hysteria,” it had been called by the First Enchanter, but for Dorian, it had been an outlet.  
A violent one that left a student with frost-burns on his body, and with Dorian crying and gripping at his own head because it just hurt so much.

It only escalated from there.

After the third Circle had sent Dorian home for the same reasons as the first two Circles he had been to, there had been words.  
Hurtful words that did nothing to help Dorian feel better or helped him understand what was going on. Nobody asked him about how he was feeling; they only wanted to know “why”. Why was he like this? Why was he acting like this? Did he feel no shame? Where was his sense of decency, his honour?

Nobody asked him how he was doing.  
Nobody tried to ask why he was doing, what he was trying to say with his actions.

Dorian never told anyone and the circle just continued.

He was sent to another Circle, then another, until the Pavus household had run out of options and decided to try private tutors instead.  
It seemed like it worked better, at the start, until the first tutor send Halward an angry letter about Dorian insulting and threatening the tutors own children. 

The second time was almost worse and Dorian had, of course, been the one to blame for seducing and kissing the tutors’ older son, never mind that Dorian had only been twelve years old.  
Dorian had tried to say that it was the son’s idea, that he had wanted to show Dorian how to kiss after the young Altus had confessed he had never kissed anyone. He had not expected for the kiss to turn into a deep one, only to be tugged away by the scruff on his neck by the boy’s very angry father, with said boy pointing at Dorian and saying “He said I had to do it or he’d burn me!”. Dorian had been slapped hard across the face that day, by a hand that was easily the size of his head before he had been sent straight home to his father and mother.  
He did not know what the tutor had said to his parents, but the look on their faces was enough to break Dorian’s insides even more as he was chastised for his actions and being lectured firmly on the fact that “young men simply _do not_ kiss other men!”, that it was immoral, disgusting and wrong.  
He had later found out that the boy had detested him for doing well under his father’s watchful eye and had wanted him out of the house. The fact that Dorian already had a reputation of being difficult was enough for the boy’s word to be taken over his.  
That feeling of betrayal along with the firm words of Halward Pavus made everything feel so much worse as Dorian realised how much he had _liked_ kissing the tutor’s son. That confusing feeling along with the hurt just added to the conflict that was raging inside the young Altus’ mind until he was just done.

He just couldn’t do it anymore.  
He just stopped trying because he was starting to learn that no matter what he did, it would be wrong.

As a result, after several more tutors and several new attempts, nobody wanted to take on the highly talented, but very difficult scion of House Pavus.

And Dorian had grown difficult.  
With each year that passed, Dorian grew quieter in one way, but louder in others. He became more stubborn, more resentful. He was restless, unsettled, and unhappy.  
And the lump in his stomach had grown with him until he had given up trying. He offered no explanations, no excuses.  
He went wherever his parents sent him, but what had once been honest attempts at settling and trying, had become attempts to sabotage the stay.

He had been talked to countless times, Halward Pavus’ hard voice chastising him as he was told time and time again what a shame he was on the family.  
That was the one thing he never got used to and the small boy inside him that was still nine years of age felt the shame and hurt that came with it. That little boy that wanted to make his father happy again, that wanted his father to be proud of him.

After the last attempt with a private tutor, where Dorian had been send back home to his family for simply not doing anything, they had decided to take matters to friends and colleagues while Dorian remained home.  
His parents had involved several people in discussions on what to do with their son while Dorian were not even asked what he thought should happen, even after he turned sixteen years of age.

After weeks of consultations and dozens of letters had been sent to gain advice, the answer had become the Order of Argent.

By then, Dorian knew that there was nothing that can be done to make him feel like he belonged anywhere. He had all but given up and had decided that he could might as well have some fun while he could.  
He would be a shame to his family either way so he could use the time to try and find something, or someone, inside himself that he could accept and like.

He hadn’t had much luck so far.

As he stepped into his very modest room, Dorian closed the door and looked at himself in the small looking-glass that was hanging on the wall over the dresser. He touched his hand over his chin, up over his jaw until the hand reached the corner of his eye.  
He watched himself, eyes flickering down before slowly moving back up as he took in his appearance, only to grimace and look away.

He could only stand to look at himself for so long before his stomach coiled with how wrong everything felt.  
So far, his attempts at finding himself, at seeming dangerous and strong, were only succeeding in making his family angry and shocking the Chantry-brothers and sisters.

At least there was a small victory in all his efforts.

But he wasn’t happy.  
It had been so long since he was truly happy that he had kind of forgotten how that felt like.

Sighing some, Dorian removed the leather-belt from around his waist before shrugging out of his robe, draping them over a chair before letting himself fall onto the bed, face first, not caring that he would probably smear kohl all over his pillow and cheek.

He had been here just shy of three months now.  
Three months of being lectured on Andraste and the Maker, of the rules of the Chantry, of Tevinter, the Magisterium, on Magisters.  
Three months of having his fingers smacked, of being punished as the tutors tried to tame him.

‘The wild Pavus boy’.  
Oh, if they only knew…

He was getting good at it.  
The hiding, putting up a mask, pretending to be someone he was not.  
Maybe, in time, he could hide well enough so he would not hurt so much; learn to pretend to be the man his father wanted him to be.  
Despite what maybe his family and the Circle thought he did not act out because he wanted to hurt anyone. He did it because he had no other way to show that he was not happy with his life, but the more he acted out, the more a finger was pointed at him.

Because it was obvious that whatever the reasons were, the problem lied with him, or so he was told.  
Dorian knew that not everything that had happened was his fault, but it didn’t seem to matter most the time. In the end, he had decided he could might as well make it his fault. He’d be damned if he was going to take on things that were _not_ his fault; better that he did something right away before someone could do something to him.

A lesson he had learned after that blighted, but oh, so nice kiss from a boy that couldn’t even stand him…  
Oh, if only his father had known how many boys he had kissed after that first one. He would surely shit his smallclothes in shock if he ever found out, but that was yet another thing Dorian had to keep hidden inside him along with the hurt, the confusion and the desperate desire to just see that look of pride on his father’s face.

At least he had wanted to make his father proud, once upon a time.  
But he wasn’t sure if he wanted to do everything in his power to do so anymore.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to make his father and mother proud, he still did, but he did not now how to do it anymore. The only clues he had, the only formula he had been given that would spell success was a formula he didn’t understand.  
He was older now, smarter, able to think and put things together, but even now it was hard to make the pieces fit.

He cracked an eye open as he tilted his head up from his pillow, looking towards the closed wooden door as he heard the sound of footsteps coming down the hallway, breaking his chain of thoughts as quickly as they had appeared.  
An eyebrow was raised as it was unusual for people to wander at this hour and at this particular end of the floor he was staying at. Because he was so unpredictable, the tutors had placed him away from the other students, not wanting for him to influence them or harm them.

The footsteps came closer until they stopped outside the door, quickly followed by a quick knock to his door.  
He didn’t even get the chance to say anything before the door swung open, revealing one of the Chantry-brothers that served at the school.

“Master Pavus,” he greeted Dorian, though the words didn’t quite match the look of annoyance on the man’s face.  
“The First Enchanter sent me to speak to you.”

Not that the First Enchanter in the Order of Argent was much of a mage.  
While the Order of Argent was considered a Circle in its own right and magic was taught to its students, that was not the main purpose of the school and the First Enchanter was nothing more than a mage who had barely been able to pass his test before scraping together enough influence to become a “headmaster” of sorts for the Order.  
The real leader was a Revered Father and the First Enchanter was readily doing everything the man wanted him to do.

“Oh,” Dorian responded as he sat up on the bed, a look of disinterest on his face. “What does he want now? Am I to pack my bags? Write a thousand lines that “I must not comment on Andraste’s tits in class”? Allow you to flog me into repentance?”

The man wrinkled his nose and Dorian couldn’t help but smile. Ah, it was just too easy to shock them at times.

“The only bag you need to pack is a small one. You are going to Minrathous.”

“Am I now? I wasn’t aware that we were going on a field-trip. How marvellous,” Dorian drawled while stretching his arms into the air, still pulling up a façade of boredom.  
“Are we finally going to do something interesting? Perhaps visit a proper circle? Cast a fireball or two?”

“It is not an expedition,” the Chantry-brother said, handing Dorian a piece of parchment.  
“You, and a few selected others are to come with the Revered Father to visit a proper Chantry.”

“What? What for?” Dorian said while snatching the parchment from the man, quickly reading it.

“To teach you humility and respect.”

“What? This is… This is a lot of nonsense,” Dorian snapped, gripping the parchment hard enough to crumble the side he was holding.  
“I refuse; I will not go to this… This Chantry! You cannot make me!”

“On the contrary, Master Pavus, we can. Your father has given us the permission to do what is needed and while some of your-“ The Brother trailed off as he searched for the proper words, ignoring the fact that Dorian was clenching the parchment so hard that the tips of his fingers were going through the fragile paper. “-outburst and discard for rules has been overlooked, this is something we are permitted to do,” he finally finished before looking at Dorian.  
“We leave tonight. Please pack a small bag with what you deem necessary. We will be gone for a little while.”

Dorian’s mind was still in turmoil, unable to speak up as the Chantry-brother simply turned on his heel and left the room, leaving the young Altus mage to his own devices.

A trip to the capital and a Chantry?  
It was clearly a punishment, Dorian could easily see that, but what were they going to do? Were they really going to flog him? Surely his father couldn’t have agreed to _that_!

By the time he was able to actually respond to the statement, the Chantry-brother was gone, door closed behind him, leaving Dorian alone in the small room.  
He was shaking so badly with uncontrollable hurt and anger that he accidentally set fire to the parchment in his hand, making him drop it in surprise. He then watched as the parchment fluttered to the floor, the fire dead by the time it touched the wooden surface, leaving only ashes.

That was exactly what he was feeling, he realised.

Dorian was burning, so brightly, so strongly, consuming everything he could touch, but now he was at the risk of becoming nothing more than a pile of ashes.  
He was on fire and nobody was there to help him put out the flames.

He barely noticed it, but he soon felt himself gasping for air, a hand going for his throat as his breath quickened along with his heart.  
Everything was hurting and he felt himself panicking. 

He tried to reason with himself, tried to tell himself that nothing bad would happen in the Chantry. That he would be insanely bored at the absolute worse. He was the son of a Magister, they wouldn’t lay a hand on him in fear of his father: a disappointment or not, Dorian was still Halward Pavus’ son and he would not stand to let anything happen to him.  
Still, there was tightness to his chest that wouldn’t go away, despite the fact that Dorian tried to think reasonable.

Dorian had no idea how long he had been sitting there, thinking and trying to breathe properly, but it had evidently been a while as the room slowly turned darker and darker.  
He had no idea what time it was when the door to his room opened and a templar came walking into the room.

“Master Pavus, are you ready?”

Dorian wanted to sneer, wanted to say something, anything to toss the templar off balance, but he had yet to find his own footing. “I… I have not packed. I do not want to go.”

“I am sorry, my lord, but I have strict instructions to follow you down to the carriage with the others.” To the templar’s credit, he did actually sound like he felt sorry for Dorian, but that was not comforting to the young mage. In fact, that made him more frightened for what he was going to.  
“Please, take a minute to pack what you need.”

Dorian still hesitated before he slowly stood up from the bed and started gathering some of his belongings. He didn’t really know what he was taking; a book there, a robe there, a hairbrush, whatever he saw that seemed necessary, he took.  
When he reached for his staff, the templar shook his head. “No need to bring that, Master Pavus. You will not be needing it.”

“… I see,” Dorian replied, trying to keep his voice steady. “Then… I don’t need anything else. I am ready.”

An obvious lie, but what else could he say?  
His mind was screaming as the templar lead him out of his room and for a moment Dorian wondered if he would ever come back to the school. He hated it, yes, but he knew he would hate being left in a Maker-forsaken Chantry even more so.  
His body was trembling, his hand gripping so hard at the small leather bag that his tanned skin was turning pale.

He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t let them take him away to some unknown faith.

He couldn’t take it.

He wouldn’t let them.

***

_“Magister Halward Pavus,_

_It is with great regret that we feel the need to inform you of the disappearance of your son, Dorian Pavus._  
We did as informed and brought your son to Minrathous to visit an esteemed Chantry in order to have your son repent and reflect on his past actions. However, the boy responded with anger and reluctance, and while he came with us quietly, we should have realised that something would happen. He remained with us up until we reached the capital and we made sure that he and the other boys were securely in their rooms at the Chantry before retiring, but when we went to wake them, young master Pavus was missing.  
The boys claim not to know anything about his whereabouts, having not noticed anything, which tells us that master Pavus must have slipped out during the night. We do not think it was planned as he left most of his belongings by the bed. 

_We have naturally orchestrated a search, but we felt the need to inform you and request any aid you might provide in the search for your son._

_We would also like to discuss with you about your son’s future at our school. We feel that this might not be the place for a boy of Dorian’s deep-rooted issues with rules, authority and proper etiquette. Your son is bright, there is no denying that and the boy will, without a doubt, go far in life, but only if he is placed on the correct path._

_We will, naturally, continue to try and mould your son if you should desire as he has not acted out on the students, but we will still like to converse with you about what to do._

_With the most humble respect,  
First Enchanter Malerio Ignavus.”_


	5. Inclined to do the Forbidden

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Dorian starts to explore his newfound freedom a little more. What is a healthy teenage boy to do when the world is at his fingertips?

Dorian had honestly not had a plan when he had decided to run away, it had been an unexpected opportunity.  
He’d gotten up at the dead of night to take a piss and while searching for the privy, he had realised just how quiet the Chantry had been. And how empty it had been. As soon as he had realised this, something in him had guided him to the grand doors leading to the outside and a careful push had shown that they were open. And more unexpectedly, there was nobody outside.

Before he had even gotten the chance to truly think about it, Dorian had run, not caring if anyone spotted him.  
It had been a poor plan, he had not thought through it for one second as he dashed through the stone-gates. He had nothing with him save from the clothes he was wearing, which had happened to be his regular outfit because he had refused to strip down and sleep while sharing a room with the others. He also had a small coin-purse tied to his belt, but there was little money inside it. It had mostly been used for gambling with the other students in the tower and while he could probably get a meal or two, it would not get him much more.

He did have one thing going for him though, which was hanging from his neck from a thin, golden chain: the Pavus birthright.   
In all honesty, Dorian had never really thought about it until he found himself on the streets of Minrathous with very little coin on him, but the boy was nothing if not crafty. He had seen others flash their birthrights when accompanying his mother and father into the city, and that seemed to be enough to get them whatever they wanted, at least as far as Dorian had observed.  
He wasn’t foolish, he knew that they would need to pay later, but having a birthright was as good as signing your name to a piece of parchment: you find what you want, you show them who you are and you pay later. It was easier in many ways as walking in the bigger cities with a fat coin-pouch was asking for trouble.

Dorian was no lord yet, because of his young age he was still referred to as "master" until he reached adult-hood, but his family was well-known and there was no mistaken the symbol that was hanging around his neck, hidden underneath his shirt. Surely he would be able to get a favour or two by flashing it at the right places.  
Problem was, Dorian had no idea exactly where the right places were.

One thing he did know was that he was extremely out of place.

While he had seen Minrathous several times, he had always been accompanied with his mother and father and it had always been in the light of day, in the more respectable areas of the city.  
Now he was alone, uncertain about where he was and he had no idea how late into the night it was.  
He could hear music from the different taverns in the air; the sound of singing, laughter and various instruments.

Dorian wasn't sure how far away from the Chantry he was or even how long he had been walking, but he knew that nobody would miss him until the crack of dawn, when they would be rudely jerked from their beds to pray. It was late and Dorian's head was spinning with fatigue mixed with adrenaline and the only clear thought he had was finding a place to stay for the rest of the night.  
His legs carried him over to one of the taverns he could hear music from and as his hand touched the door, he felt his heart beat even harder.  
Inhaling deeply, Dorian tried to straighten himself up to look as tall and old as he could before finally pushing the door open.  
He was almost expecting to be ambushed the second he went inside, but nobody even gave him a second look. The air was thick with the smell of wine, ale and herbal smoke. Scantily clothed women were busy serving drunken men and women beverages, and Dorian could immediately tell that this was a very different side of Tevinter that wasn't talked about.  
Robed men and women were acting out, and while Dorian didn't know many Magisters by their face alone, he recognised the signet-ring they were carrying as hands waved around. He could feel the hairs on his arms and neck stand out as the familiar feel of magic washed over him, and he had to duck as a tankard of ale swooped past him and into the hand of a fat, well-robed man in a corner, fingers gleaming with magic and big, jewelled and golden rings.

Dorian couldn't help but grin. 

This... This was something he could get behind.

Nobody was behaving here, no fancy dinners and polite talk. Here and now, people were raunchy and non-caring.   
They were free from the bonds that tied them to their positions in life, trusting and knowing that if anyone ratted them out, then they in turn could point a finger at them and say "well, how would you know that unless you were right there with me?".

After taking another moment to take in his surroundings, Dorian wandered over to what he guessed was the innkeeper, giving him a nod. "Greetings," he said, figuring he could at least show he had manners. "I assume you are the owner of this... establishment?"

The innkeeper, a tall, rather fat man with a beard that would make even the most hairy dwarf weep with envy, gave Dorian a look-over, clearly not impressed with what he saw.  
"You would assume correctly," he grunted out, placing his hands on the wooden surface of his counter. "And what brings a young man such as yourself here?"

"Room and board," Dorian replied, trying to keep his voice confident. "For a couple of days, I am not staying long."  
The innkeeper just looked at Dorian, obviously sizing him up, which made Dorian feel even smaller on the inside. Thankfully, he was becoming a rather skilled liar when it came to the mask he was wearing on the outside and with an elegant movement, he fished his amulet up from underneath his robes and held it up.  
"I am sure my father, Magister Pavus, would appreciate it if his son was kept safe. Or would you rather have a Magisters son stay outside, sleeping with the common people?"

The change was almost instant, the judging look replaced with something more humble. "Not at all, young master," the innkeeper said, his voice dripping with honey.   
Dorian was sure that if the man could, he would lick his boots. He was almost tempted to stick them out and test his theory.

"Right this way, we should have a room that fits a young man of your stature just fine," the innkeeper continued, gesturing with his hand towards a set of stairs further inside the inn. "Would you like something to eat as well? Something to soothe your throat?"

"Yes to both, please," Dorian replied as he followed the man, grasping at the railing as he followed the innkeeper upstairs.  
After a minute or so with more obvious grovelling, which was starting to get more tedious than it was amusing to Dorian, and a promise to have food and drinks delivered to his door in just a few minutes, Dorian was left to his own ministrations inside a very luxuriously decorated room. The bed was large and when he ran his hands over the cover, Dorian could feel the soft cotton threading. There was a bath as well as a basinet in a corner along with a large mirror. By the window was a table and two chair and when Dorian walked over to it to peer outside, he could see the darkened market-place outside.  
In total, the room somewhat reminded him of his room back home, but a bit smaller.

As promised, the food and drinks were delivered, and as Dorian sat down to eat, he all but wolfed the food down with as much elegance as a drunken dwarf. The school, while generous with the amount of food, did not serve most tasteful food, and this was a meal fit for kings after spending three months eating that swill.

The food was soon gone and Dorian was nursing a glass with fine, red wine, feeling himself grow drowsy as the alcohol mixed with his exhaustion, creating a rather pleasant buzz in his mind.

He had no idea what would come next and at the moment, Dorian couldn't have cared next.  
All he knew that right now, he was free.

Free to explore, to see things without being told what to look at and in what way.  
And he was planning on making the most of it.

***

Alcohol, Dorian discovered, was as bad as it was wonderful.  
He had had alcohol before; wine, ciders, ale and the sort. He was a boy on his way to man-hood, the son of a Magister, upper-class: of course he had shared many a drink with other boys when the opportunity had been presented to him.  
He had experienced intoxication, that pleasant tingle inside him from the different types of alcohol.

Wine created a pleasant buzz in his head, made him feel warm on the inside.   
Ale made him feel equally warm and the sour taste as it went down his throat made him feel like a man.   
Cider was a drink of comfort, a little treat if the weather was bad or if he was freezing.

This, however, was anything but tasty or cosy.

What he was drinking now made him feel extremely hot, extremely brave and extremely stupid. Everything was a brilliant idea, especially the offers of "more".   
More was an extremely good idea.

Especially if others were buying.

He had been free from his last prison for four days and he had already woken up three times now, late in the afternoon, with a head-ache that threatened to split his head open, his body aching and his stomach threatening to reject everything he had eaten.  
The first night he had started on this new adventure, he had actually woken up in a puddle of his own vomit, arms around a brass-bowl and with bloody knuckles. Exactly what he had done the night before was unknown to him, but aside from the obvious, he seemed to be in one piece and with nothing taken from his person.

So, naturally, he had not learned a thing from it and proceeded to do the exact same thing again the following nights.  
Yes, he hurt the day after and wowing to never do it again as he dry-heaved over the brass-bowl, but in the moment, it was exactly what he needed.  
The more he drank, he discovered, the less he felt. The alcohol dulled the ache and pain he couldn't do anything about on the inside, it made him relax and it made him feel good.

He also discovered that he was, for one reason or the other, extremely desirable. Men and women that were twice as old as him, if not more, were more than happy to provide him with drinks for just a moment of his time, something that Dorian was only too happy to provide.  
He had his looks with him, he knew that, but Dorian had not expected that despite his efforts to make himself look more dangerous and unapproachable, people were still calling him the loveliest things.  
Alcohol probably helped in loosening their tongues all the more, but Dorian did not care. It made him feel good and that was all that mattered to him at the time.

He was getting attention and for once, he did not need to act out in his usual ways to get it. He found, in fact, that he rather liked this attention because it was not something that had been the biggest focus for him in the past.  
It had been a focus, certainly: he had learned quite early that one could say a lot by the way one dressed, but he had been more focused on his skills as a mage, rather than how he looked most of the time. At least until he turned old enough to care about how he wanted to look.

And while out here, Dorian discovered, looking and acting the part could get him exactly what he wanted without him needing to show the Pavus birthright or empty his coin-purse. With the flutter of his eyelashes and the right compliment, the older men and women were all but eating out of his hands and were more than happy to buy him drinks and food.  
The fact that he was young didn't seem to matter to the people he encountered, and the more attention he got, the bolder he became.  
It was obvious that some of the men and women tried to butter him up enough to get a proper evening with him, but Dorian never allowed them to go that far. Most kept their hands to themselves when Dorian removed it from his back, his leg or his arse, but a couple had gotten rougher with him.  
Thankfully, as the son of a Magister, he had that leverage and he had no trouble using the Pavus name to his advantage when the men or women became more threatening. Just the mention of "I do not think my father, Halward Pavus, would like it when he hears about it" were enough to make people back away, making Dorian smirk in satisfaction.

He felt powerful. He felt almighty. He felt desired and absolutely wonderful.

Perhaps that as the reason why he decided to wander into an area that had a more ill reputation in search for thrills.  
It certainly hadn't been planned, but encouraged by several tankards of ale and the blind bravery that only an immature boy on his way to manhood possessed, Dorian found himself in the first building that seemed like fun.

That bravery almost left him when he saw exactly where he had ended up, but the alcohol was still burning strong inside of him and that was all the encouragement he needed.

Besides, the sight of the handsome men were doing something to him that he had not quite expected.  
Dorian was well aware that he had felt... Something, when he had kissed the Magister's boy some time ago, even if it had been a ruse by the other boy. He had also felt attraction to other boys while in the different Circles as he grew up, but he had never acted upon it because, as far as Dorian knew, it wasn't supposed to be like that. Boys were not supposed to feel attracted to other boys.  
He had tried looking at girls his own age, had tried to look at his betrothed when his father and mother had forced him to spend an eve or day with her, but Dorian found that he appreciated her mind and wicked tongue more than he did her body. She was pretty, he supposed, but he found no desire what so ever for her.  
Maybe it was because it was forced, he figured, and left it at that.

Here, however, he was able to look and even touch as much as he wanted.

"Are you lost, little boy?"

The sharp voice cut through the alcoholic haze like a knife and Dorian's eyes looked around until they landed on a older woman of human origin that was standing by the counter, arms crossed and eyes fixed on him.  
She reminded him of one of his nannies: short, stocky build, arms easily as wide as Dorian's entire head, but the way she carried herself, despite the strict look on her face, left Dorian with an impression that you did not pull a fast one on this lady.

"Hardly," Dorian spoke, mentally wincing as his voice naturally chose that moment to break, making the word come out more as a squeak.  
"I am here with a purpose, I assure you."

"And what purpose would that be?" the woman replied, the gaze turning more intense.

"Companionship, of course."  
The words left Dorian's mouth before he could stop them, leaving him feel terrified and excited all at once. "Companionship and some good drinks."

"We can provide both here," the matron said, though her expression showed no hint of emotion or gave Dorian any inclination on what she was thinking.   
Not that Dorian could really trust his own head right now, with the alcoholic fog still clouding his judgement.

"But you need to provide the coin for it."

Dorian licked over his lips before nodding. "I have the coin for it," he said, trying his best to sound confident. As it to prove it, he fished up a gold-coin from his purse, silently hoping that he would be able to pay for his own bravado. He wasn't sure if the Pavus birthright would do him much good here.

"So provide me."

The sight of gold was enough to make the matron turn her entire demeanour around, giving Dorian a rather pleased smile. "I think we have come to an agreement, young master," she downright purred before gesturing towards the brothel.  
"Perhaps you would like to take some time in the sitting-room? Take a look at our lovely personnel while enjoying a drink?"

"I would very much like that."

The lady nodded before snapping her fingers. "Liandra. Please take this fine, young man to the sitting-room," she ordered as a scantily clothed woman came walking, gesturing towards Dorian with her hand.  
"Please see to that he has everything he need. He is a first-timer at our establishment. We want to ensure that his stay is a good one."

"Of course, mistress," the woman replied before smiling sweetly at Dorian. "Come with me, young master," she murmured, bowing her head as she gestured for Dorian to come with her.

Dorian took a moment to look her over, taking in her appearance. While her clothes were revealing enough, he noted that she was dressed a little different from the more obvious prostitutes. The cleavage was there and the skirt was short, certainly, but the way she handled herself showed that she was a mere appetiser; someone to get the heat up before the clientele was handed off to someone else. It was obvious in the way she refrained from actually touching Dorian as she guided him to a more comfortable area of the brothel, but adding just enough sex-appeal in the way she swayed her hips when walking.   
Not that it mattered to him as the swaying hips did nothing more than making him feel a little bit queasy, his brain not able to keep up with his eyes and feet at the same time.

"Tell me," she murmured as she made sure that Dorian was seated, giving him a warm, sensual smile that Dorian could not even start to appreciate. "What can I fetch a young man such as yourself?"

"Ale," Dorian managed to squeak out as his nerves started acting up, feeling his heart pound with the excitement of being at such an -bad- place. "The strongest you have."

"And do you see anyone you would like to... Converse with?" she asked.

Dorian took a look around, letting his eyes roam over the different people that were there as he tried to find someone he liked. Someone forbidden. Someone he wasn't supposed to have.  
It took him a moment to decide before he pointed in the direction of his goal.

"Him. I want to converse with him."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was going to make this one long-ass chapter, but I chose to split it up because once I started hitting 10 pages, I realised that it would be way long.  
> Hopefully it will still be enjoyable as is!


	6. An Outstretched Hand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Dorian finds an outstretched hand in a wise old man.  
> (Also known as the time Alexius found Dorian in a whorehouse and dragged his ass out of there.)

It had been completely coincidental to find Dorian amongst the whores, laughing and happily nosing against an elfen male's neck. At least the boy was still dressed, even with his hand wandering over the elf's bare shoulder and up his neck.

Alexius wasn't sure if he was to laugh or cry at the sight, but it proved that his hunch had been correct.

Dorian's reputation was well known and Halward had often spoken to Alexius about the issues he had with his son. Alexius was a good friend of the Pavus family and was happy to listen to his friend and colleague, but in this instance he was certain that Halward was wrong about his own son.  
To him it was clear that Dorian was a boy well on his way to self-destruction: Alexius had seen it before with many young boys and girls that were pressured by their parents.

So to find Dorian there, clearly drunk out of his skull and with an elfen man on his lap, was not unsurprising in itself, but it was a miracle.  
A boy such as Dorian could easily have gotten in more severe trouble because of his status and inexperience. Slavers or kidnappers could easily have taken him while in the state he was in, holding him for ransom or even sell him as a slave to a rivalling family, simply to humiliate the Pavus family further.

For those reasons, Alexius was glad that he had found the boy friend and it was with that in mind that he walked over to Dorian. "I see that you have found yourself something to amuse yourself with."

Dorian's head turned lazily and Alexius could all but see the wheels turning as the boy tried to place him. As soon as it clicked into place, the grin was back and Dorian lifted his tankard up in the air.  
"Magister, good ser," he slurred, almost spilling the ale onto Alexius' robe. "I cannot say I am surprised to see you here. I've seen quite a few Magisters these last days, doing things they are not supposed to do. Quite amusing!"

"I am sure you have," Alexius replied, fixing the elf a look before jerking his head to the side, signalizing for the elf to get off Dorian's lap.  
The elf, to his credit, took it with grace, sliding off Dorian's lap with a caress to the boy's cheek.

"You know where to find me," he purred as he left, flashing Dorian a smile as he headed off. "Should you be allowed to pursuit me."

Dorian looked after the elf, almost falling off his chair as he tried to keep the man in his sight for as long as possible before pouting, fixing his eyes on Alexius instead.  
"I was having fun with him, you know."

"I am sure you were, Dorian, but fun is over for now," Alexius replied, gesturing for Dorian to come with him.

Dorian didn't budge however. Instead he leaned forward, tilting his head enough to caress his cheek against Alexius' outstretched hand. "Are you certain," he whispered, looking up at Alexius with half-closed eyes and an attempt at a sultry smile on his lips.  
"Fun is never over, if one makes it so. Maybe we can have fun together. You, me and him?"

_'Ah,'_ Alexius thought, eyebrow raised at Dorian's behaviour. _'So that's what he has learned these last days.'_  
That in itself was worrisome and it made Alexius' even more glad that he found Dorian before someone else did.

"He is a sweet man," Dorian continued, smirking as he let his hand slide into Alexius', squeezing it. "I am sure he wouldn't mind another powerful mage in his bed, no? What a story he could tell to the others, bedding two powerful men at once."

"Something I am certain he has done many a times," Alexius laughed, letting his fingers curl around Dorian's hand tightly and using the opportunity to yank the boy onto his feet.  
Dorian let out a rather undignified yelp, crashing into Alexius' body and it was only Alexius' other arm, coming to the boy's aid around his waist that prevented Dorian from falling over.  
"Today he will not have that pleasure though. You and I are leaving."

"I have already paid him!" Dorian protested, trying to squirm away from Alexius' grasp, but in his inhibited state the boy could barely stand, Alexius found.

"Then he will have a very easy night tonight, Dorian. You should be proud of yourself and consider it a small kindness."

Dorian let out a scoff, still trying to twist away from Alexius, but the man simply had too good of a grip on him. "And what good would kindness do me, hmm?" he sneered as Alexius started tugging him away from his seat and towards the exit.  
"I certainly do not feel better for it. If anything, I feel rather frustrated."

"Trust me when I say you will feel a lot more in the morning if you had actually slept with the elf. Besides, if you think about it in a more clear state of mind tomorrow, I am sure you will understand why, Dorian," Alexius merely said as he all but dragged Dorian out of the brothel and towards the main street of the slum. It was probably not the most dignified of exits, but right now Alexius did not care much about dignity. He just wanted Dorian safe.  
"You do know I will have to notify your father that I have found you. You created quite the stir when you ran away from the Chantry."

"Well, they shouldn't have brought me to the Chantry in the first place," Dorian grumbled, having given up on trying to break free and just sullenly followed the Magister.  
"I was quite clear that I did not wish to go."

"That might be so, but running away was not the way to go."

"'twas the only damn choice I had," Dorian grumbled while Alexius let out a sigh, shaking his head as he guided the boy to his carriage. Thankfully it was still where he had left it, the rider holding onto the leash of the carriage's horses tightly.

"We will leave now," Alexius called up while opening the door for Dorian, still holding onto him with his other.  
"After you, young Pavus."

"I assume I will have no say in this either," Dorian said, fixing Alexius a rather stubborn and angry stare, but the fact that he was still struggling to focus took some of the heat out of it.

"In this matter, no, but only because I wish to see you back to safety."

"If you take me home, I will be anything but safe," Dorian replied as he climbed into the carriage, slumping down onto a seat with his back against the carriage wall.  
"You'd be better off leaving me with the whores then."

"You will not be going anywhere until you have gotten a good night's sleep," Alexius answered as he followed Dorian into the carriage.  
"I have a room at a tavern within the Gilded Quarter, where you can sleep off that fog of yours. Perhaps then you can give me a proper glare without squinting."

Dorian wrinkled his nose and fixed Alexius another glare, but the sudden increased redness on the boy's cheeks were not from the alcohol alone.  
Alexius chuckled softly while rapping his knuckles against the back of the carriage, signalizing for the driver to take off. "Take us to the Gilded Quarter, good ser. Take it easy on the turns so young master Pavus won't be sick in here."

"As you wish, Magister Alexius," the driver replied.  
Alexius could hear the snap of the whip and the sharp "Yiah!" from the driver before the carriage rocketed into motion, making Dorian jerk forward suddenly before he slumped back down against the wall, paling ever so slightly from the motions.

"If you need to throw up, please speak up so we can open the window here. I'd rather not have the carriage smell of vomit."

"Maker forbid," Dorian mumbled, then blinked his eyes in surprise as Alexius leaned forward, holding a leather-skin in his hand.

"Drink. It will make you feel better."  
The sceptical look that replaced the surprised one on Dorian's face was enough to make Alexius laugh, the older man unable to keep the smile from his lips.  
"It is just water, young Pavus. Nothing more, nothing else. Sometimes, the simple things are the best remedies."

Dorian didn't respond, but after a moment of hesitation, he took the water-skin from Alexius, bringing the tip to his lips before drinking. One sip turned into another, longer one until the young man greedily drank from the skin as if he was dying of thirst. He drank half the content before removing his mouth from the tip, breathing out hard before letting out a burp.  
"... Pardon me."

Alexius chuckled and smiled, watching Dorian as the young man seemed to sober up somewhat from the water. "Glad to see that you have not completely forgotten your manners under all that bluster."

Dorian was about to say something, Alexius could tell, but instead the young boy snapped his mouth shut with an auditable clack as his teeth met one another, his hand holding the water-skin towards the older man.

"We won't be long," Alexius merely said as he took the water-skin, placing it into a basket that was resting on the floor.  
"The Gilded Quarter isn't far by horse."

"I am sure it is not," Dorian mumbled, resting his head against the side-wall of the carriage, rubbing his hand over his nose.  
His cheeks were still pink from the drinks and probably the embarrassment, but his eyes were not as glassy anymore, making Alexius think that the scene in the whorehouse has been fuelled by something else than just alcohol.  
Alcohol had probably played a big part, that much was clear, but Alexius suspected there was more too it.

"You are acting as if I am going to toss you into the gallows."

"Are you not?" Dorian asked, though he didn't look at the older man.  
"You may be showing me kindness or mercy by letting me sleep in peace for a night, but the end-result is me being shipped back to my father, no? That, or sending me back to the Order. Either way, I am sure I will be flogged into repentance, one way or the other."

"I am sure you won't be flogged, young Dorian," Alexius said, though he didn't find the situation as amusing anymore. Not that it had been earlier either, but the young man's bravado and courage had lured a chuckle out of him.  
"A stern talking to, certainly and some cuts of privileges, but a bright man such as yourself would be able to earn those back in a heart-beat."

"So they tell me," Dorian replied, but he didn't elaborate. Instead he fell silent again, watching the dark city outside as the carriage took them to the Gilded Quarter.  
Alexius took the opportunity to study the young man, taking in his posture, his clothes, everything. He compared the boy to his own son, Felix, comparing the attitude and the way he handled himself and what he found was simply heart-breaking.

The young boy in front of him did not have a shred of self-confidence.  
He had bravado, courage, he had the intellect and the attitude, but Alexius could see the cracks in what had been a finely crafted illusion.  
Everything about him; his clothes, his attitude, his words, it was all weapons. It was all a lie.  
Dorian Pavus could talk the talk and he was able to lie so well that he probably believed his own lies, but underneath the bravado was a boy that knew the truth.

"Dorian," Alexius said after a few minutes of sitting in silence, deciding that he wanted to know more about what was going on inside this boy's head.  
"Why did you decide to go to the whorehouse tonight?"

"Why not?"

"Surely you had a reason," Alexius pried, leaning a little forward as he carefully watched for any reactions from Dorian.

Dorian glanced over at Alexius, but the movement was no more than the movement of his eyes. His head remained leaned against the wooden surface of the carriage along with his body. He didn't say anything for a minute before he lifted his shoulders in a small shrug.  
"I just felt like it. I was there, it looked fun, so I went inside."

"Was that the only reason?"

"Do I need any other reasons?"

Alexius gave a small smile. "I suppose not," he hummed before letting silence fall in the carriage, letting the driver take them to the Inn.

Once the carriage stopped, Dorian waited for Alexius to get out before following, arms hanging stiffly down as he walked into the Inn without a word. Thankfully there was no need to arrange for a room as Alexius had already taken care of that, even having the foresight to get a room with two beds.  
It was late in the night now and the Inn was silent, save from the footsteps created by the two mages as they walked inside. This was not like the Inns Dorian had stayed in; silence was required here after a certain hour.   
The two of them passed the Inn's counter and headed down a long hallway until Alexius stopped them in front of a locked door. He fished up a key from his pouch and as soon as the door was unlocked, Alexius gestured for Dorian to go inside.   
"I'd ask if you wanted something to eat," he said as he followed, closing and locking the door behind him. "But I'm afraid there's nothing served now. I can arrange for fruit or something simple, if you want."

"I am fine," Dorian said quietly, no obvious trace of the boy's inhibited state remaining in the way he moved or spoke.

"Are you certain?"

Dorian nodded and slowly removed the head-band from around his head, fingers stroking over the golden circles that decorated the black cloth. The half-long black hair was messy, the long strands slowly escaping from the loosening leather string that was used to keep it in its place.  
Alexius lowered the hood from his head before slowly loosening up the front of the robe so he could remove it for the night. While doing so he watched Dorian, who was standing with his back to the older man, hands still holding onto the head-band, watching either it or the air; Alexius wasn't sure, but he could tell that the boy was deep in thought.

"... Magister Alexius?"

"Yes, Dorian?"

Dorian bit his bottom lip, hesitating some before continuing to speak. "... What will happen to me now?"

"In truth? I do not know," Alexius replied, removing his robe and carefully folding it up, placing it on a chair that was next to his bed, leaving him in a soft cotton tunic and silken pants as well as his boots.  
"But if I am to guess, your father will have a word with you. Rather, several words. You will most likely be punished in a similar fashion as you have in the past before your father will start a new search to continue your education."

"I see."

"You do not sound relieved."

"Should I be?"

Alexius raised an eyebrow, folding his arms over his chest as he looked at Dorian's back. "I think you should, young Pavus. You were lucky tonight."

Dorian didn't answer and instead let the head-band fall from his hand, watching as it landed onto the bed. He stared at it, still fully clothed before he slowly turned his head. The grey eyes were moist, but Dorian was not crying. Not yet.  
"... You should have left me there."

"Why?

"Because... I do not want to go home."

"Dorian," Alexius started, taking a step forward to place a hand on Dorian's shoulder. Instead the boy flinched, immediately halting Alexius in his steps.  
"Tell me what is on your mind," the older mage said instead, giving Dorian his space.  
"Your parents are worried about you. The second they heard you were gone, they arranged for a search. When they hear that you are alive and well-"

"If they cared so much, they shouldn't have sent me to the Order," Dorian suddenly yelled, hands curled into fists.  
"I never wanted to go! But they never listen!" The young man's voice cracked, the last sentence coming out broken as Dorian's voice had started to tremble.   
"They don't care about my well-being, they just want me home so they can continue with their precious plans," he continued, the words now whispered and even though there were several feet between them, Alexius could see that Dorian was shaking.

"Dorian," the older mage started again, his voice calm and soothing.  
"Take a deep breath. That's it," he coaxed as Dorian did as instructed, nodding his head with each breath the boy took. "There we go," he murmured, holding his hands up to show that he was listening.  
"I want to understand the reason for this, young Pavus. Please... Talk to me."

"Why? Will you understand more than my parents? Will you truly listen to me?" Dorian whispered, voice still shaking.

"Yes, I will," Alexius murmured softly. "I am here now, yes? I am not going anywhere. I am right here, willing to listen to anything you want to tell me."

Alexius could almost see it as Dorian took in the words and started picking them apart, poking at every syllable, every letter, trying to find an ulterior motive, but finding nothing.  
He was quiet, watching as Dorian contemplated what to do, almost holding his breath in fear of spooking him.

"... I don't know what to say," Dorian eventually whispered, sounding so small and lost that Alexius felt his heart ache for him.  
It was so clear that Dorian had so much he -wanted- to say, but lacked the ability to get the words out.

"How about we just start somewhere," Alexius suggested while sitting down onto his bed, eyes never leaving Dorian. "And we see where that ends up."

Dorian hesitated before nodding, moving to sit down on his own bed, eyes glued to the floor.

"We can start with something obvious. Like why you ran away from the Order and the Chantry. Surely it wasn't that bad?"

"It was to me," Dorian whispered, fingers gripping and tugging at the fine fabric that covered the bed.  
"It was just another gilded cage where nobody listened to a single word anyone said. My words didn't matter, they just wanted me to shut up and do as I was told."

"Institutions do work that way, Dorian," Alexius murmured. "It is a way to teach respect to those who know more than yourself."

"I know that," Dorian spat, gripping his fingers harder into the fabric, gripping almost hard enough to tear it.  
"I was a good student once. I listened to my teachers. Respected them. I gave them what they wanted. But then they stopped listening to -me-."

"Who did?"

"Everybody. Everybody stopped listening and just-"  
The young man hesitated, fidgeting as he struggled to find his own words before finally continuing. "-they just started ordering me around instead. They told me that I was to do this or that and there was no room for discussion. No room for error."

Alexius frowned some, trying to understand what Dorian was saying. "I am not sure I understand what you mean, Dorian," he murmured. "As a student, you are supposed to do as you are told. Did you feel that you were too important to listen to them?"

"That is not what I mean."

"Then what do you mean, Dorian? Are you speaking about your tutors or something else?"

Dorian let out a small snort and shook his head. "I wish I was speaking about my tutors and the Circle. At least then there would be a reason to follow their wishes. I am supposed to learn, after all, like you said. But no, I do not mean my tutors or the Circles, Magister Alexius. I mean in my life."

"Your life?"

Dorian nodded before holding his hand out, letting a small ball of fire appear in his palm, letting it grow until it was the size of a closed fist. "This," he said as he looked up at Alexius. "Is what my parents want. And it is the only thing they want."

"Your magic," Alexius asked.

Dorian nodded again before clamping his fingers around the fireball, snuffing the flames out until nothing remained. "My magic," he echoed. "I learned fast that it doesn't matter what I do as long as I do what they want me to do. I learned that my parents do not want me. They want what I am."

"Dorian-" Alexius started, only to be interrupted as Dorian suddenly stood up from the bed.

"Don't. Don't defend them because you know it is true! Do you honestly think they would have had such high expectations of me if I had been born without magical talent? Do you think they would have said I would become the next Archon if I could not summon fire out of thin air? No. No, they would have claimed their child had died in a tragic accident and tossed me into the nearest river. Or an orphanage, if they felt generous enough. They do not love me, they love my magic. My talent. They love what they want me to become."

The words where harsh and raw with emotions, and Alexius could see that this was not something Dorian simply said.  
This was something Dorian believed with his entire being.

"My reasons for running away has been the same as when I have been sent home from other Circles or tutors," Dorian continued as he started pacing the room, arms wrapped around himself as he tried to calm down without success. The dam had been breached now and every emotion, every thought Dorian had on the subject was flooding out.  
"Nobody listened to me. Nobody ever asked me even once what I want in life. My path has been made painfully clear to me. I am to do this and that and get married and fuck my wife enough times to pump out a child or five before I take my seat in the Magisterium as a Magister, then as Archon. That is my path, my destiny. Not once have they asked what -I- want to do. They do not -care- what I want to do. They do not care that I -don't- what that life. I am not even sure I want to be a mage!"

"Then what do you want, Dorian," Alexius asked softly, carefully.

Dorian stopped his pacing, hesitating some before his shoulders slumped. "... I don't know. Because what I want has never been an option. Nothing about me has mattered. Not what I want or how I feel. I am just to shut up and do as I am told, like it or not."  
He shook his head and squeezed his eyes shut hard. "Nobody has ever asked me how I am doing," he whispered slowly. "Or even why. They demand to know why. Why am I like this, why am I doing it, why am I ruining things. But nobody has ever asked me "Dorian, why did it come to this?" or "Why did you do that?" for my sake. Even if they have, they never let me speak. They always said "I do not want to hear your excuses" or something similar."

Alexius just listened in silence as Dorian spoke, letting the boy actually find his voice for once without anyone interrupted him.  
It all made sense now. The way Dorian acted, the way he spoke. The careless way he carried himself.

The boy was obviously starved for positive affection and attention, and had figured that negative attention was better than no attention at all. At least then, people paid attention to him outside the obvious expectations they had of him.

After the outburst of emotions, Dorian had retracted back into himself, giving Alexius one last look before heading to the bed, letting himself fall onto it without even undressing. The boy made sure that his back was to Alexius and the Magister was willing to bet that he was feeling embarrassed and vulnerable. It was understandable, at least to Alexius, that the boy would feel that way now.

It did not take long before the tension drained ever so slightly from Dorian's shoulders as he fell asleep, exhausted from the many events of the night, though even as the boy slept, Alexius could see that the boy was tense.  
He was curled up in an almost foetal position, knees pulled up and arms still wrapped around himself.

_'Oh, Halward, you have truly failed on this,'_ he thought to himself, shaking his head some as he watched the boy sleep.  
Dorian was sixteen years of age, almost a man, and yet Alexius could see the vulnerable child that was still hiding inside of him.  
A child that was hurting and wanting affection, but was too afraid to reach out and ask for it.

Maybe it was because Alexius had a son of his own that he was able to see just how much the Pavus-family had failed their own son by trying to shape him into something that the boy wasn't even ready to understand. They had not even given Dorian the chance to find himself first, leaving the young man a confused mess that was clearly trying to destroy himself using any means possible.

As he watched the sleeping boy, Alexius thought about what he could do for him and as he thought, an idea came to mind.

Maybe it was too late as it was, but Alexius would never forgive himself if he did not make the attempt.  
As quiet as he could, he sat down by the table that was in the room and started working on a letter to Dorian's father.  
It was a long shot and even if Halward agreed, it was not a given that Dorian himself would agree to it, but that was a battle Alexius was willing to face.

Because if it was one thing Dorian deserved in life, it was a chance.   
A chance that Alexius was more than willing to offer to the boy. 

_"I am indeed the one who found your son with the whores, my friend.  
Ask me not what I was doing there, and I shall tell you no lies. _

_The boy had enough cheek, even in his inebriated state, to invite me to join him. It made me laugh, so I dragged him back to the Gilded Quarter rather than simply calling the templars. Fortunate that I did, since once Dorian sobered up in the carriage, we had an interesting chat._  
He's rather despondent over the life's path you've charted for him -if I may frankly- and thus, I think a part of him sabotages all efforts to keep him on the straight and narrow, either to spite you or to punish himself.   
I cannot say.   
Regardless, he has spirit, and his tutors claims he has almost as much talent as he believes. 

_With your permission, I'd like to take him under my wing and see what can be done to cultivate it._  
No matter what he feels, it would be a pity for such a mage to go to waste.   
Our Imperium needs better. 

_Gereon Alexius"_


	7. A New Start

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Dorian is welcomed into a new household.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This serves more as a bridge between two points in Dorian's life so I apologize if it is a little boring!

Dorian felt his heart pound hard against his chest as the carriage took him, his belongings and Alexius to Alexius' estate in Asariel.

He was surprised that he was even going there, having not expected for anyone, let alone a Magister to be willing to tutor him after everything he had done.  
Then again, despite Alexius warm and welcoming demeanour, Dorian doubted that anything would come off it. The expectations, the ignoring, everything would come back to ruin everything, just like it always did.

Still, his chest had fluttered ever so slightly when Alexius had told him during their stay in the Gilded Quarter, that he and Halward had had a talk and that his father had been willing to let Dorian come stay with Alexius to be tutored. He wasn't sure when his father had come to see Alexius and he felt a slight ache inside from knowing that his father had been in Minrathous without even telling him.  
He suspected that the reason was mostly because of the rumours that had been set to motion by Dorian's latest antics; rumours so vicious that it left Dorian with a nauseating feeling at the pit of his stomach as well as feeling guilty.  
He had not meant for it to go that far, but it was too late now. The damage had been done and now his family was paying for it.

Alexius, however, had promised him a different experience, a new setting and had seemed confident that he would be able to make Dorian feel better about everything.

Dorian wished he could believe him.

Alexius had also told him that he had a son that was about Dorian's own age; Felix.   
What had surprised Dorian though was that Alexius has told him that Felix himself had little to no magical talent, despite the fact that his parents were both talented mages. What was more surprising though was that Alexius has spoken with such pride that Felix was going to Orlais to study at the University there, as the boy had a flair for numbers and mathematical equations unlike anything he had seen.

Alexius, Dorian saw, did not care one bit that Felix could not continue his family's legacy. He just wanted his son to be happy and to pursuit something that made him happy.  
It was the first time Dorian felt truly jealous of someone he hadn't even met and the feeling disgusted him.

The trip to Alexius' mansion was long, but uneventful, requiring a couple of stops on the way so they could stretch their legs, but Dorian didn't mind. It gave him time to adjust to what was about to happen as well as mentally preparing himself for the worse, even if he didn't mean to do so.

He wanted to give this a chance, to not mess something up for a change.

It was late in the evening on the second day of their departure when they actually reached Alexius' home, but there was still light coming from a couple of the windows.  
When Dorian stepped out of the carriage, he could have sworn he saw someone look out one of the windows at the top floor, but the dark shadow had vanished as soon as he spotted it.

"Welcome home, amatus," a warm, female voice from the front door and Dorian couldn't help but look towards it.

In the door was a young, beautiful woman, dressed in simple, but tasteful robes that Dorian assumed was some sort of simple evening wear. He also knew that his mother would not be caught dead wearing something so plain, but he couldn't help but think it looked nice on this woman. She didn't need jewels or intricate details on the dress to compliment her appearance; the long, dark hair braided loosely and adorned with silken ribbons, sun-kissed face warm and welcoming with only a hint of tinted cheeks and kohl around her green eyes.

"Darling," Alexius replied just as warmly, taking quick steps towards her before greeting her with a kiss as he took her hands.  
"It is good to be home again."

"You have been missed," the woman said warmly before looking towards Dorian.  
"And I take it you are Alexius' new apprentice?"

Dorian hesitated before nodding. "... Yes. My name is Dorian of house Pavus. It is a pleasure, madam," he replied stiffly, giving a small bow.

The woman merely chuckled along with Alexius. "Amatus, are you sure you have the right boy," she mused. "This one has manners."

"Rumours, Livia," Alexius mused, waving his hand dismissingly before gesturing towards Dorian.  
"Come, Dorian. It has been a few long days and we felt that you could do with an evening for yourself in a proper room. Are you hungry at all?"

"No, I... I am fine," Dorian replied hesitantly as he stepped towards them, feeling just as nervous about entering this house as he had when he had entered his first Circle seven years ago. It was a strange feeling, almost alien since he had spent the last couple of years with a rather nonchalant attitude, but he thought the difference was the fact that he had not been forced to come here.

He had been given a choice by a man that had come out and said that he -wanted- to have Dorian as a student.  
This was not something his father had decided, nor had the man been paid to take Dorian off his father's hands.  
The man was willing to take Dorian into his own home, to tutor him, out of his own pocket.

That alone helped make Dorian feel just a smidgen of self-worth and with that, the nerves and fears had come back.

The fears of not being good enough, of not being what was expected of him.

Dorian wasn't sure if he could stand failing again.

"Are you sure," Livia asked as she smiled at Dorian, taking a step to the side as a human man, dressed in simple, but nice-looking clothes, came walking out, quickly bowing for Alexius and Livia before he hurried over to the carriage.  
"We do not mind dishing up a little something for you. I am not about to let you go to bed hungry."

"I am sure," Dorian murmured, giving a small, forced smile.  
"Do not worry about me."

"If you are sure," Livia murmured before nodding at the man as he returned, carrying Dorian's chest in his arms. "Please show the young man to his bedroom, would you?"

"Of course, my lady," the man said before bowing his head to Dorian. "Please, young master, if you would follow me."

Dorian blinked his eyes in surprise before looking up at Alexius, who merely smiled and nodded at him. As the man started walking, Dorian quickly followed, trying not to be obvious about how he looked around himself.  
This was very different from how his household was in Qarinus and he struggled to put his finger on exactly what it was. Maybe he was just too tired to see it because he had a feeling that it was staring him directly in the face.

"Right in here, young master," the man called out to Dorian as he opened a door and bowed his head, gesturing for Dorian to go in first.  
"The Lord and Lady hope it will be to your liking."

As Dorian stepped into the room, he couldn't help but gawk even more, feeling his breath catch in his throat.  
While it was smaller than the one he had had back home, it was more... Welcoming.

The bed was grand four-poster bed with red curtains tied to the poles, revealing the inviting pillows and sheets on the bed itself. On both sides of the bed was a nightstand, both adorned with a glass, a candleholder with a unlit candle and books, different ones as far as Dorian could see.  
There was also a large desk in the room, already set and ready with several sheets of parchment, books, quills and a large ink-house.  
By the large, slightly opened window were a smaller table and a very comfortable looking chair, the table adorned with a larger candelabra, a tall glass and an empty carafe. By the wall were three grand bookshelves, all shelves packed with books of different subjects.  
Finally, next to a washing basinet, wooden tub and a large, full length mirror was a grand, wooden closet and when Dorian opened it, he could see two sets of robes hanging inside. As he turned to look at the man, he noted the simple cloth-hanger by the door as well as a beautifully carved staff-holder by the door. In the staff-holder was already an unfamiliar staff, simple in its decorations, but sturdy-looking.

Dorian knew that you had to be an idiot not to realise that the room was tailored for him to be comfortable in.

"Is it to your liking, young master," the man asked as he walked into the room, placing the chest down by the bed.

Dorian had almost forgotten that the man was still there, jumping some as he spoke up. "Y-yes, i-it is," he managed to squeak out, then cleared his throat in an attempt to get rid of the sudden cracks in his voice.  
"Please thank Master Alexius and his wife for me."

"Of course, young master. Don't hesitate to call for us should you need help," the man replied and bowed again before stepping out of the room, closing the door behind him so Dorian could have his privacy.

Dorian remained almost frozen in place before he finally started moving, slowly moving over to his chest and opening it.  
Everything he had brought with him to the Order of Argent was neatly packed inside: all his books, his clothes, his personal belongings.  
With a sigh, he started digging through his items until he found his night-shirt, not wanting to spend another night in the clothes he was wearing. Despite bathing while on the run, he hadn't found anywhere to wash his clothes so while he himself was clean, his clothes were feeling more than a little dirty.  
He left the rest of his items in the chest however, not trusting himself with unpacking right now. He still had that gnawing feeling at the bottom of his belly, telling him that this was fleeting at best. He would be sent out on his ass before long anyway because he would somehow mess up.

He always messed up.

Shaking his head hard, Dorian walked over to the small washing area and started getting undressed. 

As if they had expected that he would go straight to his new room, a bath had been prepared for him and Dorian could see that the water was still warm thanks to the steam that was floating on the surface.  
Dorian smiled some, once again feeling that twinge inside him before he continued to strip out of his clothes, more than a little eager for a proper bath.

A sigh of pleasure escaped him as he let his body sink into the warm water, leaning back against the wooden surface behind him as he allowed himself a moment to just enjoy the luxury of having a proper bath. Now that he was in the water he could smell the faint aromas of vanilla which was a luxury he hadn't had in a while. He allowed himself to be slowly enchanted by the smell, closing his eyes as he felt his body relax ever so slightly, only now feeling just how tired he was. It was like the last days were nothing more than a bad dream.

Only when the water started turning cold did Dorian actually stir in the water, quickly washing his skin and hair before standing up, reaching towards a large towel to dry himself off.  
After tugging on his night-shirt, Dorian took a moment to look at himself in the mirror, taking in his appearance now that he was all but stripped bare of his costume. Only the nose-ring revealed the more rebellious side and as Dorian touched it, he twisted it around slightly, feeling it move inside its hole.  
For a moment he considered taking it out before deciding against it, bringing his hands to his hair instead so he could bind it up for the night. He did not want to deal with the mess his hair became when bathing before bed.

As soon as he deemed himself ready, he gathered up his clothes and carefully folded it up, leaving it by the tub so it could be dealt with in the morning.  
Barefooted he walked over to the bed and pushed the covers aside, smiling a little as he climbed into the bed and made himself comfortable. With a flick of his wrist, he waved out the few lit candles that were in the room, plunging in into darkness save from the faint light coming from the moon outside.

He remained like that for a little while, just looking into the darkness while resting his head against the soft pillow, blanket tugged up to his chin as he tried to make himself feel comfortable.  
His head was spinning with the results of the day: the amazement of how lord and lady Alexius had welcomed him into their home, hands extended and ready to give him a chance, but also the black pool of nerves, of fears and anxieties that were boiling inside him, threatening to spill over.  
It left him feel overwhelmed, tired and as he lay in the bed, in darkness and silence, he could truly feel how his body and head ached from it all.

Inhaling deeply, Dorian closed his eyes and buried his face against the pillow, deciding that there was only so much he could stand thinking before he would go insane.

_'Tomorrow is another day,'_ he thought to himself as he allowed himself to drift off, feeling the fade pull at him, luring him with promises of a temporary escape from it all, if only for a while.  
Before long, Dorian was asleep, the only sound audible in the room the sounds of his breathing.

***

"Is he asleep already?"

Alexius looked towards his wife with a smile and a nod, carefully and silently closing the door to Dorian's room.

They had given him a while to settle in before Alexius had decided to check in on him, only to find the young Pavus boy already in bed, dressed in a simple, white shirt and all but cocooned inside the sheets.  
Despite being sixteen years of age and teetering on the boarder towards manhood, Alexius could easily see the young boy now that the layers were pealed away.

Gone were the dark clothes, the make-up, the piercing, replaced only by the vulnerable shell of a boy who was still trying to find himself.

"The poor boy was exhausted," he murmured as he offered Livia his arm, walking with her back towards the sitting-room. "I cannot blame him for just wanting to sleep, though it seems like he did jump to the opportunity to take a bath."

"I just hope he will remain this calm," Livia murmured, worry flickering over her face for a moment. "If the rumours are anything to go by..."

"If you are worried about Felix," Alexius started, smiling at his wife. "-then I don't think you need to worry about Dorian doing anything to him. If anything, I believe Felix will influence him instead. It will be the first time he is around someone his age that is not talented in magic, and who will not be impressed by it. I believe they will be able to learn from one another."

"I do hope you are right," Livia replied, releasing her husband's arm as they walked into the sitting-room, moving over to the soft chair by the fireplace.  
"I just don't want anything bad to happen to Felix. I know that I should not listen to the rumours, but I cannot help but worry."

"Which is why you make such a wonderful mother to our dear son," Alexius murmured, smiling as he watched her sit down into the chair.  
"But I honestly would not worry. The boy is a complete mess and in severe need of guidance, yes, but he is not without hope. I believe that with us, under our guidance, he will flourish."

"But what if he starts acting out here as well?"

"I do not think he will. He is talented, yes, but I doubt he has been complimented for his accomplishments in years. He is expected to be able to know the things he knows and thus has become invisible to his tutors as well as his own parents. This facade he has put up is a result of him making himself visible in the only way he knows how, even if he is destroying himself in the process."

"You sound so sure about that, amatus."

"You did not see him when I did, my dear," Alexius murmured, sitting down onto the couch, picking up a bottle with wine and pouring them both a glass.  
"You can say what you want about the Pavus-household, but Magister Pavus severely overlooked his own son in the chase of restoring past glory. The boy has been given the entire world and is expecting to carry it without question. He has not been given a chance to find out who he even is."  
After sliding the cork back into the bottle, Alexius reached over the table, holding out one of the glasses towards his wife who took it with a soft smile and a word of thanks.  
"I am sure that with us, he will be given that opportunity. I will be able to give him my full attention and hopefully guide him towards a more suited direction. Not just for himself, but for the future."

He lifted his glass up and gave a silent toast towards his wife.  
"This is the beginning of a new chance for the Pavus boy, and I do not think I am exaggerating when I say that the boy will grow up to do marvellous things."

Livia merely chuckled softly and lifted her own glass, mimicking her husband's toast.  
"To you then, my dear. May you be as good with him as you were with our dear Felix."

Alexius smiled and took a sip from his wine before leaning back against the couch. "Trust me, my darling Livia. I shall give Dorian the attention and structure he needs and craves. Just wait and see."


	8. Flourishing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Dorian grows under Alexius care and as time passes, discovers a new side of himself.

True to his words, Alexius started his work with Dorian almost immediately after taking him in and he was not surprised when the first cracks in Dorian's finely crafted facade started to appear, showing the person underneath.

Alexius had written letters, many letters, to every teacher, every tutor that Dorian had had during his life, wanting to know exactly where he was standing with the young man. The responses ranged from vague to extremely detailed, from encouraging to almost mocking him for "taking on an impossible task", but there was a red thread that followed each and every letter.

The tutors and teachers all agreed that Dorian was talented.

The Magister knew that there was more hiding underneath the talent and it didn't take much polishing for that to start showing.   
And show it did; Dorian was easily as intelligent as he was talented, but there was more to it than that. The boy had a thirst for knowledge and under Alexius lessons, he eagerly devoured the tasks and books he was given.  
Dorian had protested at the start, of course. That was what Dorian believed was expected of him now and Alexius knew how hard it was to break old habits even when you wanted to be better. He thought himself better than reading simple stories and he was especially difficult when Alexius had started his lessons by handing Dorian a large book about politics, but it had not taken much to make the boy understand why.

"The key to understanding the world, Dorian, is learning about it. Knowing magic is all nice and good, but there is more to the world than magic. You may never leave Tevinter, but if you do, would it not be nice to understand how the world works outside our borders? What you can do here may not be accepted out there and we must respect that, just like visitors to our Imperium must respect our laws. And even if you yourself never leave the Imperium, your knowledge on the politics of other countries could be enough to win you more than one favour. Knowledge, Dorian, is power, when wielded by a mind who knows how to use it."

It had been hard for Dorian at first, that much Alexius could tell. The young boy was very much used to being rude, ignoring his lessons and acting difficult, but Alexius had expected as such. Dorian had lived a specific role for a long time at the same time as he had been trying to break free from another, and it was hard to break free from the chains he had wrapped around himself.  
It was painstaking, taking several weeks, but as soon as the young man got used to the way Alexius handled the lessons, he worked with vigour and determination, happily bombarding his master with questions and thoughts.

Alexius had to be honest; he had expected for Dorian to completely dismiss everything, so he was a little surprised that it had been that easy to make Dorian work, but at the same time, he understood perfectly why.  
Dorian was merely tired of demands without being told why. It wasn't him being difficult; he just wanted to understand the reasoning behind it. As soon as he was given a reason he could get behind, he would accept it and do as he was told.   
Truly, he did not understand at all how the tutors had failed to motivate Dorian to do his work, when all Alexius had to do was properly explain why he was to do instead of demanding him to "just to it". 

To his delight, Dorian had also befriended Felix with little to no issues once he had introduced them to one another.  
Felix, as it turned out, had been curious about Dorian and his upbringing, and after a few rocky starts Felix had managed to soften young Pavus with his own, warm and friendly personality.   
Dorian, not knowing how to handle people his own age that were not part of the traditional Tevinter upbringing, had responded as expected at the boys' first meeting; cocky and a little obnoxious, but the air had quickly gone out of the young man once he realised that Felix did not give two licks about how big his fireball was.   
Felix's special brand of simple praise and compliments without the jealousy or the grovelling had thrown Dorian off completely so when Felix had invited him to play chess, Dorian had merely nodded his head dumbly before following Felix to the library.  
Because of that, it was so much easier to introduce Dorian to a new part of his education.

Physical training.

As expected, Dorian was a master when it came to wielding and handling a staff when magic was involved, but when fighting without his magic, he was absolutely rubbish.

He hadn't understood why he needed to learn this at the start.   
He had magic, he could burn someone to crisps before they could even touch him, he had said. Alexius had merely chuckled before letting Dorian feel first hand how it felt like to be cut off his magic with a simple silencing spell. The look of horror on Dorian's face when he realised he couldn't cast even a simple spark was proof enough that the message had reached him.   
"You may never see combat, Dorian," Alexius had said while tossing him a simple wooden staff. "But you'd want to defend yourself, using any means possible. Magic can get you far, but like any other weapon, you can be disarmed. You'd want the element of surprise on your side then, which might be enough to tip the odds in your favour. Do not underestimate a good whack to the head."  
Alexius had then tossed another staff to his son, knowing that Felix was more than a match for Dorian when it came to sparring. Felix had been training for years already since he did not know magic because Alexius wanted to arm his son with any means possible in case he ever needed to defend himself.  
Dorian had been sour at first when Alexius had asked for him to spar with Felix without magic and even more so when Felix had accidentally clogged him in the face, splitting his lip and making his nose bleed.   
In a way, it was rather amusing to watch as the cocky Pavus-boy truly out of his element, sprawled on the dirty ground, nose dripping with blood and looking absolutely surprised that someone was superior to him while Felix had just given Dorian a toothy grin of his own, offering a hand to help him up and a friendly "Again?". For a moment, Alexius feared that Dorian would react in the same way Halward had said he had when he was a child, but after a few seconds of silence, Dorian had merely nodded his head firmly and grasped the hand, hoisting himself back up onto his feet. "Again."

Alexius was willing to bet that the first attempt at sparring was the first time Dorian had truly felt humbled by someone else, which in turn had helped him realise just how little he knew. It was probably also the first time Dorian himself had suffered physical injuries and while he had whined that the bruises and his nose hurt, he had not quit.  
In fact, to his surprise, when Alexius had rose the next morning and opened the window to his bedchambers to get some fresh air, Dorian was already outside, dressed in a simple tunic, cotton-pants and leather-boots, practicing his stance and assaulting the trunk of a tree with his staff.

Things became routine after that and with Dorian quickly settling into Alexius schedule, the Magister was confident that he was on the right track.  
The days were filled with lessons on politics and history, of culture, literature, physical training and, of course, lessons in magic. Dorian devoured it all with such an appetite that Alexius quickly realised that the young boy would need challenges; challenges Alexius were only too happy to provide.  
Together they would go through complex magical ritual, deciphering runes and old forgotten tongues, they would explore and expand Dorian's knowledge and abilities on magic; anything that Alexius could think off in an attempt to challenge the young man. 

It was a delight to see.

While Dorian spent most of his time with Alexius or studying in his room or in the grand library in Alexius' estate, Alexius made sure that Dorian also got room to breathe and to grow.  
He arranged for visits, trips to different cities and even across the border to Nevarra so Dorian could get a taste of the world outside the Tevinter borders.

By the time Dorian had reached his eighteenth year, he had grown into a proper man and even Alexius could see the result of the Pavus' family's careful breeding.

Dorian Pavus was, in many aspects, a perfect example of good breeding.

Gone was the thin, lanky boy, slowly being replaced by a taller and lean man. Gone were the piercing he had taken as a boy as well as the rough hair-cut, his hair now grown out to a more even length, reaching down to his jaw.  
His once soft facial features had hardened slightly, the puppy fat given way to a more sharp jaw line and intense, grey eyes under dark, nicely shaped eyebrows. He had even given up the piercing through his sternum and when Alexius had asked him about it, Dorian had merely responded that "it is uncomfortable when I sneeze".  
There was still development going on; Alexius suspected that Dorian was not quite done yet, but he had to admit that there was always a delight to see when the boys suddenly stretched far above the girls, like weed amongst flowers.

Except Dorian was no weed.

With age he had also matured more and while he was still prone to quips and sassy remarks, it was only adding to the sharp mind he possessed: a gentle reminded that everything you said was carefully evaluated.

It was because of this that Alexius started allowing more freedom, letting the Dorian go to the nearby town on his own to socialise with people his own age. He especially found this to be important when Felix left the estate to attend school in Orlais, which left Dorian mostly on his own with only Alexius and Livia as company.  
After all, Dorian was quickly reaching adulthood and needed to spend time outside of Alexius' estate in order to grow, and while Dorian had come back late from time to time, he had never abused or broken Alexius' trust. He had not done anything to cause a stir, nothing to cause havoc or creature rumours. 

He was merely being a young man at the peak of becoming a full-fledged adult.

On purpose, Alexius also limited contact with Dorian's family. He knew letters were sent and received from time to time, and what Dorian wrote or received, he did not know.   
He had, however, advised that they should not meet until he deemed Dorian ready for it. The scars that had been left on the boys mind and spirit were big and still healing, and Alexius knew that getting that pressure, those expectations back would be bad.  
Dorian did not protest on this arrangement and if he missed his mother or father, he did not say it or show it.

As far as Dorian was concerned, he had all the company and support he needed.

***

It was a cool autumn-evening when the currier came to Alexius' door, the only people in the house being Alexius himself, Livia and Dorian, all of them seated in the grand-living room. Dorian did not pay the currier any mind, too wrapped up in the game of chess he was playing with Livia until Alexius called his name.  
"There is a letter here for you."

"For me?" Dorian carefully brushed some hair away from his face, tucking the loose strands behind his ear. "From who?"

"Felix, I believe," Alexius mused while handing Dorian the letter. "We got one as well, but I can imagine that he is writing something different to you," he added while handing Livia a letter as well, though kept the one that seemed to be from Felix.

"We can always compare," Dorian replied with a slight grin as he took the letter, carefully loosening the wax that sealed the letter.

"As long as he does not do anything wrong, then feel free to gossip to one another," Alexius mused as he opened his own letter, smiling as he read. "Oh, wonderful. The tutors seem to be impressed with his work on numbers. He is currently working on a system to better predict odds. Just a thesis still, he says," he said proudly, making Livia smile as she opened her own letter.

"Truly? That is wonderful. He always did like those sorts of challenges," she murmured while scanning over her own letter. "Does he happen to mention when he will come home?"

"Nothing specific, but he does say to give you his very best," Alexius replied before looking up as Livia sat up more properly on her seat.

"Ah, finally. The First Enchanter from the circle in Vyrantium has given me a response about taking one of his students."

"Good news, my love," Alexius asked while Dorian himself only halfway listened, too amused by reading about the troubles Felix was getting into in Orlais. Nothing serious, of course, Felix was too good of a person to do anything seriously wrong, but just small pranks here and there. The latest prank had been releasing crickets in the headmasters supposedly locked office and waited for the hilarity to start when the headmaster opened the door the next day. Apparently they were still finding crickets here and there.

"I am sure you will like that as well, yes?" Livia suddenly said to Dorian, making him look up from his letter.

"Hm?"

Livia chuckled, seemingly not minding that Dorian had not been paying attention to her. "I have a new apprentice. A boy your age who will spend a lot of time here at the estate."

"Yes?" Dorian raised an eyebrow and reached for his goblet, nipping at the sweet wine in it. "I suppose that will be interesting as long as he is able to provide some stimulating conversations."

"I am sure he will be more than able to keep up with you," Livia mused while folding the letter up carefully. "He was held in high regards in the Circle of Vyrantium."

Dorian didn't respond to that, still feeling that sting of shame when thinking about his reputation with the Tevinter circles.  
"Then I am sure he will be able to keep up. Does he play chess," he asked instead while studying the chessboard more intensely.

"You will find out soon enough," Livia said while waiting for Dorian to make his move, running her finger lightly around the glass of her goblet, the friction between her skin and the slightly cool and wet surface creating a slight humming tone. "I will be expecting him shortly as soon as the First Enchanter gets my answer."

"How long will he be staying?" Alexius asked as he sat down onto the grand couch by the fireplace, still reading his own letter.

"Just part-time," Livia said as she nodded at a servant who in turn bowed and left the room.  
"He will be for about a week at a time, once a month. As I understand it, he is preparing for his Harrowing and his enrolment. Should be exciting."

Dorian decided to tune them out and slowly got up from his chair, Felix's letter still in hand.   
"I think I shall take my leave, Lady Livia," he said with a small, polite smile. "So you may discuss this with Master Alexius. That and I have a letter that needs to be written."

"Of course," Livia said, giving Dorian a small, but warm smile in return. "I will leave the chessboard as it is. We can resume our duel another evening."

"I will look forward to it," Dorian replied, giving a small nod to them both with his head before turning, walking out of the living-room and towards the entrance-hall.

In truth, wanting to write Felix wasn't the only thing he wanted too. It was the way Livia spoke about her new student that made Dorian's stomach tie itself into knots.  
He knew she wasn't doing it on purpose and he knew that it was just himself being stupid, but he still felt like such a failure, despite being tutored personally by a Magister of Alexius' stature. Not many people could claim the same luck.  
It was the fact that he had no Circle to actually attend. His name was in no book, there was no spot for him anywhere once he was done with his education. He wasn't even sure how he could take his own Harrowing when he was all but shunned by every Circle in Tevinter.

If he was to compare himself to anything, it would be like a castless dwarf. Maybe even a Tal Vashoth, or, in a way, an apostate.  
A mage with no circle to call his own. What greater shame was there to an Altus mage?

Dorian hated the fact that he couldn't think of a single thing to challenge that thought.  
It made it feel all the more bittersweet.

Opening the door to his room, Dorian slip inside and closed it silently behind him, waiting until he heard the familiar sound metal meeting metal as it closed shut before releasing the cold, metal handle with his hand.  
For a moment he remained by the door before walking over to his small working table, placing the letter from Felix onto a book he had been studying. He would work on a response in a bit, right now he just felt the need to think.  
He walked over to the small vanity by the wooden tub and sat down, carefully undoing the leather-string that kept his hair bound and putting it aside. Picking up the comb, he let the bone-teeth of it sink into the dark strands of hair before he pulled it back, repeating the motion once he reached the end of his hair.  
While brushing his hair, he looked at himself, grey eyes studying the man he was now compared to what he had been. He had been called handsome, beautiful, many times already and he supposed it was true. He wasn't bad-looking, his face wasn't prone to making children cry, but he didn't like looking at himself most the time. He at least never looked into his own eyes.

Still, he could hardly complain.   
He had been with Alexius for two years and the Magister had been very good to him. He had taught Dorian so very much, more than any Circle had, and he was treated as an adult, not an ignorant child, which Dorian appreciated.  
He was smarter now, more knowledgeable and while he could hardly claim he knew everything there was, Dorian believed that he knew more that the average man thanks to Alexius. He knew right from wrong, he was learning to see the world in shades of grey rather than black and white.

Yet he still felt so empty inside.   
He still had no idea who he truly was.

"Give it time," Alexius had once said during one of Dorian's mood-swings when he was just a little younger.  
"You are still young, still learning, still experiencing. You will make many mistakes, as you should. Only by doing them will you actually learn from them. The experiences you get will help form you into the man you will become."

Slowly dragging the brush through his hair one last time, Dorian lowered it back onto the smooth wooden surface of his vanity before just looking at himself, taking in everything he could see.  
He wished that he could see inside of himself rather than studying what was on the outside. The outside told him nothing when he knew there was a storm raging inside of him. A storm that was nothing like the chaos two years prior, certainly, but there was still winds in the sails and waves licking up over the small ship that was him and his life, threatening to sink him. At least he was equipped with a bucket now rather than a cup.

Sighing, Dorian got up from the small seat and wandered over to his working-table, lighting the candle there with a flick of his fingers as he sat down into the comfortable chair. He carefully gathered his papers, placing them in neat stacks before tugging free a fresh piece of parchment from under a book.  
He picked up his quill and carefully dipped the cut tip into the black ink before bringing it to the parchment, hesitating for just a moment before starting to write.

_"Dearest Felix,_

_I am glad to hear that everything is going well for you in Orlais, but I must say that life here is rather dull without you. There are only so many times I can stomach being beaten in chess by your mother before going insane.  
Though I am not without news as you will simply not believe what I experienced down in the village the other day."_

***

A few days passed after Livia sent her response to the Circle before anything was heard about the new student.  
In fact, Dorian had been so wrapped up in his own studies that he had completely forgotten about him before he was summoned by Alexius to meet the newcomer.

In truth, Dorian had not been sure what to expect, but he'd made himself some thoughts. Someone his own age, certainly, similar height and something resembling similar interests if he was lucky.  
What he hadn't expected as he came walking down the stairs to join Alexius and Livia was to be all but floored by the young man standing in the doorway.

He was tall and his build was similar to Dorian's, at least from the little Dorian could figure out from under the simple, yet elegant robes.  
His features could only be described as handsome; a well-chiselled jaw decorated with a neatly trimmed and well-kept goatee, sharp features, a straight, thin nose, dark-blue eyes, long, black hair tied back into an elegant ponytail.

He was beautiful and Dorian could already feel his heart thunder in his chest from just the sight.  
This... He had never experienced something like this.

"Young master Cassian Salvitto," Livia said as the man stepped into the hallway, followed by one of Livia's servants who were carrying the man's belongings.  
"Welcome to our home. It is a privilege to have you here at long last."

"The pleasure is all mine," the man replied as he bowed before Livia and Alexius with a flourish. "It is an honour and a privilege to have been granted tutorage by a Magister of your status, Lady Alexius, and to be in the presence of your famed husband as well is an honour. I am already looking forward to what I know will be a rich and educational stay."

Livia let out a soft chuckle as she gently curtsied for Cassian. "You are already gifted with kind and honeyed words, I hear. Not a bad trait. I merely hope you will be just as gifted in your studies, but according to your tutors, I am already optimistic."

"I will certainly give you my all," Cassian murmured before his eyes landed on Dorian. His lips tugged into a smile.  
"And is this your son Felix then?"

Dorian stood almost at the bottom of the stairs, frozen in place before Livia and Alexius' soft chuckles brought him back to life.  
"Sadly not, but while he stays in the house, he is as dear to us as our own Felix," Alexius replied, making Dorian blush ever so slightly.  
"This is young master Dorian of house Pavus. He is my student, the only one I have."

"Dorian Pavus," Cassian murmured and Dorian could only pray that the shiver that went through his body from the way Cassian said his name was not visible.  
"I have heard much about you," he finally said before gracing Dorian with a bow. "It seems I am surrounded by knowledge and talent wherever I turn."

"Of course you have," Dorian said, trying his best to sound confident as he finally took the last few steps down before giving Cassian a bow of his own.  
"And I have heard of you as well, Cassian Salvitto. Your family is rather famed for their collection of rare, magical artefacts, I am told."

"Indeed they are," Cassian said with a small grin. "Though I can hardly claim to have added to that fame, at least not yet. But perhaps in time."

"That will go for both of us, I believe," Dorian replied with a small smirk of his own, hoping to Andraste that his mask was holding. He had never felt so shaken, never felt so out of place, so nervous as the man called Cassian made him and he had no idea what to make of it.  
He didn't feel threatened or intimidated, but his heart still pounded in his chest and his blood was surging so fast through him that he thought he'd go deaf.

Maker, was this was proper attraction felt like? 

Dorian really had no idea except that he felt the need to just wrap himself around the man's foot like a dog in heat. The thought alone made him feel ashamed and even dirty, and yet there was a voice in his head telling him that _"would you really mind it if this man bent you over and dirtied you?"_.  
Dorian honestly couldn't answer that voice.

"Cassian, are you hungry or would you like to retire for the night?" Livia asked Cassian, who merely smiled back.

"I would not mind a small bite, Lady Alexius," he said as he turned his attention to the woman.  
"And if it would not be considered rude of me, I would like to retire after supper if I can? The trip was long and I was so excited about coming here that I hardly slept a wink."

"Of course," Livia said as she gestured for Cassian to follow her and Alexius to the dining room.

Dorian hesitated for a moment before slowly following, still trying to gather his thought at this much unexpected situation.  
He had no idea what to do about except ignore it the best he could.   
He didn't know much about attraction to other men as it hadn't exactly been covered by the lessons he had had, but he remembered a brief mention of it when he was still in the Order of Argent; two men together had no place in the Imperium as it would do nothing to help create more mages in Tevinter. Men who lay with other men were deviants, and such couplings were frowned upon and viewed as shameful.

At the memory of that lesson, a new sort of nausea was making itself noticed in Dorian's stomach and even as he forced up a smile as he took a seat by the grand dinner-table for supper, he could feel his appetite vanishing as realisation hit him like a slap to the face.  
No wonder his old tutor had been so angry when his son had said Dorian had been the one to kiss him.  
No wonder the rumours of him picking up male, elven whores had been the talk of Minrathous for weeks.

Gripping at a glass of wine, hoping that the slight tremor in his hand wasn't noticeable, Dorian tried to make sense of what it all meant for him.  
Was it just a coincidence that this man, that Cassian, was affecting him so strongly?

He hoped so because if the alternative was what he thought it was..?  
It would just be another thing his father would be disappointed at him for.  
Dorian wasn't sure if he could live with that.

This... This was not good.  
Not good at all.


	9. Under the Stars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Dorian finds someone who is the same as him. For better or for worse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am wondering a little about where to take this story. Or rather, I am wondering a little about how far I am to take this story. I have a very first direction and vision on where to take it, but I am a little insecure about where to stop it.  
> Right now I am considering stopping it at the point where Dorian meets the Inquisitor and let people's own visions and playthroughs take it from there, so to speak. Or are you perhaps interested in seeing my take on Dorian's thoughts and development during DAI, like I did with Kaidan in Sentinel (for those who have read that story)?  
> Please let me know what you guys think!

Cassian Salvitto, as it turned out, was an incredibly charming man and it did not take long before Dorian was absolutely smitten with him.  
The man was not only charming and handsome, but he was well-spoken, intelligent and had a sense of humour that Dorian could appreciate.  
Not that Dorian showed any indication of being smitten as he knew that that would spell disaster, not only for himself, but also Alexius and Livia, not to mention that Cassian would probably be absolutely disgusted with him.

Still, he was unable to look away when Cassian and he worked in the same study, or when Cassian came to watch when Dorian was training.  
Dorian couldn't help but wanting to impress, trying his best to show off his talent, his physique, his intellect whenever he could. His reward was Cassian's impressed looks, his honeyed words of praise and a big, bright smile.

It made him feel good.  
Good and yet if made him feel so confused.  
He had no idea why Cassian's approval meant so much to him, why he subtly sought after the other man's attention, praise and company whenever he could.  
He just desperately wanted Cassian to like him. More than like him.

Dorian considered telling Alexius, but he didn't dare to discuss such a thing with a man that had given him so much already.  
He also considered writing to Felix, but he didn't want to put words on what he was thinking. If anyone saw the letter... The scandal and embarrassment would be too much.  
So Dorian kept it inside the best he could, telling himself that the slowly building friendship between himself and Cassian was enough.

That was before the winter-season came.

Winter wasn't particularly cold in Tevinter, but the cold winds from the south accompanied by the rainy season made it very unpleasant to be outside, especially the further south you were. Being in Asariel and near the coast, the temperature was usually warmer, but the air was more humid which in turn made the nights more chilly, something Dorian noticed already in his first year with Alexius.  
It had been two years since he came here and he still wasn't used to it, despite the roaring fire in his Master's study and the fine silken tunic he was wearing.

It was not unusual for Dorian to sit up far into the evening, as the moon stretched towards the highest point on the sky and the stars were twinkling on the dark background: he found he liked the tranquillity of sitting by himself, reading through the old tomes and documents while nipping at a goblet with fine wine or even brandy. It gave him the peace of mind that he required to think and analyze the work he had already done, scanning the parchment for errors, illogical thoughts or just plain mistakes.

"Look at you. The moon is already high on the sky and here you are, working hard like a good student. Honestly, I feel like I am slacking compared to you."

Feeling his cheeks heat up by the familiar voice, Dorian forced up his most charming smile as he glanced up from the parchment, letting his eyes land on the figure moving towards him.  
"Well, I am a good, diligent student. While most of what I do is great, it does not hurt to see if the greatness can be perfected even a little bit more."

Cassian chuckled softly as he reached the desk Dorian was working at, leaning against it. "Such a perfectionist."

"That would be me."

"Indeed it is," Cassian replied, the smile playing on his lips aiding in Dorian's stomach making cartwheels inside him.  
"Though even the greatest of minds needs to let said great mind rest and you, good Dorian, have more than earned some rest."

"I intend to rest," Dorian said while forcing his eyes away from Cassian. "I just want to look over these papers before I do so. Helps lessen my work-load for the rest of the week, you see."

"Aaaah, a man that thinks ahead," Cassian mused. "I do like that. However..." He reached over and carefully snatched the parchment away from Dorian's fingers.  
"I must insist in you taking a break. In fact, I must insist on you coming with me and sharing a most wonderful sight that is currently taking place outside."

Dorian let out a small protest as he tried taking the parchment back, only to pause from Cassian's next words. "... Wonderful sight?"

"Indeed," Cassian said, placing the parchment down onto the desk before reaching over to snuff out the candle with a little bit of ice-magic at the tip of his fingers.  
"The weather is perfect of a bit of star-gazing and many of the constellations are unusually bright tonight."

"I did not take you for a sky-gazer, Cassian," Dorian teased while trying to ignore the increased speed in which his heart was suddenly beating.

"There are many things you do not know about me, Dorian," Cassian smirked while pushing himself away from Dorian's desk, then gesturing for Dorian to follow him.  
"Perhaps this is the chance for us both to learn something new, hmm?"

Dorian just gave Cassian a nervous smile, glad that the darkness of Alexius' study was mostly concealing his features. "Perhaps."  
He tried not to entertain the many thought that were dancing around in his mind as he followed Cassian out of the study, down the hallway and towards the grand stairs that would lead them to the entry-hall.  
Soft light came from the gathering-room to the right of the entry-hall, indicating that Alexius and his wife had not yet gone to bed, but the two young men did not need permission to go outside to gaze at the stars.  
As they came down the stairs, one of the many of the household's slaves came towards them, head lowered in respect. "Young masters."

"Our cloaks of you please," Cassian said, not even looking at the slave, who merely bowed deeply before scurrying off to fetch the cloaks.  
If Cassian had any flaws in Dorian's eyes, it was the man's uncaring treatment of the slaves in the house. Dorian knew that Alexius was controversial in his treatment of his slaves, treating them as close to servants as he could without risking his position in the Magisterium. He was already viewed as somewhat special there and if the other Magisters knew that Alexius all but treated his slaves as Soporaties, he risked loosing more than his position.  
Still, Cassian was not unkind to the slaves and Dorian definitely knew people that were worse in their treatment of slaves than him, so he was willing to overlook it. It was the Tevinter norm after all and if anything, Dorian was the strange one for thinking more like Alexius and even as his own father did when it came to the treatment of slaves. In all his time when home, Dorian had never seen his father or mother mistreat them, always making sure they and their families were well-fed and tended to, just like Alexius did.

They didn't speak as the slave came back with another one, a young elven girl that Dorian knew tended mostly to Felix when he was home. Together they helped Dorian and Cassian with their cloaks, fastening the clasps as their throats before the two young men headed towards the door.  
"If Master Alexius wonders were we are, we will be at the gazebo," Cassian called out before they headed out into the cold, Tevinter night.

"Yes, master," the girl said quickly, looking after them for a few seconds before closing the door to stop the cold from seeping inside.

Feeling a shiver go through his body, Dorian tugged his cloak more firmly around himself, eyes fixated on the dark, stone-covered pathway that lead to the gazebo.

"Cold, Dorian?"

"It's a bit nippy," Dorian replied. "I am not made for such chilling temperatures."

"Such a delicate desert flower you are," Cassian teased, making Dorian's cheek heat up from embarrassment. Thankfully it was dark and barely visible against his dark complexion.

"Hardly, I am just from further north," he protested instead, giving an indifferent sniff as he looked away from Cassian.  
"Now you were here to gaze at the stars, yes? Gaze away, the sky is clear for now."

"I am gazing," Cassian mused, glancing up at the sky before his eyes landed on Dorian, smiling.

"While I know I am as lovely as any star, we did not come here to appreciate my looks," Dorian said when he noticed, feeling himself squirm a little under the rather unexpected look from Cassian.

"What if I told you that star-gazing was merely an excuse for me to get some time with you alone?"

"I'd say you were full of rubbish as the library was perfectly vacant save from me and you."

"And a slave or two lurking outside, and the risk of Master or Mistress Alexius joining us."

"So?" Dorian asked, raising an eyebrow as he looked at Cassian, trying to ignore how fast his heart was suddenly beating in his chest.

"So, as good as Master and Mistress Alexius are, they might object to what I wish to do," Cassian murmured, smiling some as he moved closer to Dorian, their bodies almost touching.

Dorian swallowed hard, trying not to shrink underneath Cassian's intense stare or from how close he was all of a sudden. "And... What is it that you wish to do," he whispered, glancing up at the slightly taller man.  
Maker, but the man was handsome. Those intense eyes, the strong shape of his face and jaw, the almost regal shape of his nose.  
If Dorian was close to perfection, then Cassian was the very definition of perfection.

"This," Cassian murmured as he brought his hand up to Dorian's chin, his thumb resting just below his lip while his index-finger helped in tilting his head slightly to the side before he leaned in, slowly bringing his lips to cover over Dorian's.

The kiss was soft, sweet, almost tender and Dorian's eyes fluttered close before he got his wits about him, letting out a small, shuttering gasp of air before he broke the kiss.  
"What... What are you doing?"

"It's okay," Cassian murmured, letting his hand run up Dorian's cheek, caressing the soft skin. "I know. I am the same as you."

"As me?"

"There is no need to pretend around me, Dorian," Cassian whispered, letting his lips brush gently over Dorian's again, letting his breath mingle with the younger man's.  
"I know you have watched me and I have watched you too. Like you, I find beauty in men and you, Dorian, are exceptionally beautiful. More so than I have ever seen."

"I-I..." Dorian started, but he found that he had absolutely nothing he could say as a response. Having Cassian so close made it hard to think and the way he could feel the heat from his lips made him hunger for more, further distracting him from thinking.  
The worse part was that Cassian was right. Dorian did watch him, did like him and here he was, saying he found Dorian beautiful and even kissing him.

"Don't speak," Cassian whispered, leaning in to kiss Dorian again, deeply, but briefly. "Just let yourself give in to what you want."

Dorian hesitated for a moment, his mind spinning before he slowly nodded. "Yes..."

Cassian smiled before leaning in to kiss Dorian a third time. Dorian easily surrendered under Cassian's more experienced movements, letting the man dominate the situation and merely letting himself feel.  
He could feel a strong, secure arm around his waist as he was tugged flush against Cassian's body while his own arms wrapped themselves around his shoulders, holding onto him as it felt like his knees would give out at any moment.

It was hardly his first kiss, but it was definitely the best he had had and it was all the more enjoyable as this was the first kiss he had received that had been given to him for all the right reasons.  
When the kiss broke, Dorian let out a small grunt, his mouth chasing after Cassian's as he wasn't ready for it to end just yet, which made Cassian chuckle.

"I take it that you liked that, Dorian."

"Yes," Dorian whispered, opening his eyes and letting his gaze meet with Cassian's own eyes. "It was nice. Very nice."

"Have you ever kissed like that before?"

Dorian slowly shook his head, licking over his lips, feeling them tingle still. "No. No, I've never had someone kiss me like that before."

"I figured as much," Cassian mused, leaning in to kiss Dorian again, deepening it instantly, but breaking it after just a few seconds, grinning when Dorian let out a small moan of pleasure as they separated.  
"You are good with your lips."

Dorian couldn't help the blush, but he still managed to put up a small smirk. "Well, I am told I have a quick mouth and a wicked tongue."

"I bet you do," Cassian smirked before leaning in to occupy Dorian's mouth once more, and this time he wasn't satisfied with just a few seconds.  
He dominated the kiss, his tongue sliding into Dorian's own mouth, stroking it over the younger man's own tongue, his teeth, teasing and playing as his arms tightened the grip he had on Dorian.  
They remained like that for a while, kissing somewhat noisily under the light of the stars until Dorian was dizzy from the heat, the lack of air, the pleasure and the throbbing he felt in his nether-regions.

"You really liked that," Cassian merely said, looking satisfied as he pressed his thigh against Dorian's groin, making him groan from the pleasure, then laughing as Dorian clamped a hand over his mouth, clearly embarrassed by the noise he had just made.  
"Don't," he mused, using his own hand to pry away Dorian's from his mouth. "I like to hear those sounds. They are... Very attractive."

Dorian felt himself flush and he had to look away, the look that Cassian was giving him was simply becoming too intense. He had a feeling that he knew what Cassian wanted and he would be lying if he said he didn't want the very same.  
Yet the thought frightened him. Yes, he had done some explorations of his own body, fuelled by hormones, confusion and inspired by the naughty books he had been able to sneak out from either his father's study or, as of late, Alexius' study. The fact that the stories mostly contained a man and a woman, Dorian had no problems picturing two men in his mind as he realised exactly where his attraction lied. In a way, it made it all the more exciting as he brought himself off to those images, even with the shame burning inside him when the cloud had lifted from his mind, his spent cooling on his hand, belly and beddings.

Cassian seemed to see Dorian's hesitation and with another kiss, a more tender one this time, he released Dorian from his arms.  
"Perhaps another time," he murmured, his smile kind and warm as Dorian dared himself to look back. "When we are both ready for more."

More... Dorian swallowed some, letting that word simmer in his mind. More... That held a lot of weight to it and Dorian was curious about how much more Cassian had in mind.  
Was it just the physical act or was it... More?

"Yes, later," the young teen said instead, putting his mask of confidence back on his face as he smiled back at Cassian.  
"When I am not freezing my balls off out here."

Cassian merely laughed before gesturing back towards the house. "Then let us go," he said, letting his hand rest over the small of Dorian's back for a moment before they started walking.  
"Before you loose your family jewels."

"Wouldn't be the first jewel I lost, but I know my father cares more for those pearls than any other," Dorian said with a slight grumble, but any dark thoughts that had threatened to spill into his mind were quickly chased away by Cassian's rich laugh.

"Ah, Dorian. You are such a delight. Truly." Then, with a bit more heat to his voice, Cassian leaned in to murmur into Dorian's ear, nearly causing the younger man to stumble over his own steps.  
"I look forward to the day when I can see just how skilful that barbed tongue of yours truly is."

"Maybe you will, one of these days," Dorian managed to stammer out, slightly surprised that his voice came out as strong and normal as it did.

"I hope that day comes soon."

They walked together in silence after that, the short way back to Alexius' front door preventing them from flirting further.  
In a way, Dorian was relieved, even if he had enjoyed it. He just hadn't expected it and he felt completely unprepared for it. He didn't like that.  
He would have to up his game.

They separated after entering the house, just giving each other a smile each as they bid one another good night as the slaves removed their cloaks from their bodies.  
As Dorian entered his bedroom, he could feel his heart still pounding slightly in his chest from both excitement and fear.

This was wrong, so very, very wrong and he knew it and yet, the more he thought about it, the more he wanted it.  
Cassian was smart, he was talented, funny and handsome, and better yet, he thought Dorian was the same. Yes, Cassian was the student of Alexius' wife, but they weren't doing anything wrong, so to speak.  
They hadn't even done anything besides kissing. Maybe nothing more would happen, but Dorian couldn't help but picture all the pretty images in his head from the memories.

Cassian liked him. Liked -him-. They were both men and Cassian had said he was like him. And that he liked him.  
Surely it couldn't be that abnormal if someone like Cassian was the same way.

A hundred thoughts spun around in Dorian's head as he tried to make sense of his own line of thoughts.  
He knew what he had been told, but he also knew what he was feeling. He had read the books and, whiles few, there -had- been stories, beautiful stories with two men finding one another. Why write about it if it was so wrong?

Sighing hard, Dorian moved over to his bed and let him fall face-first down onto the silken sheets, burying his face in his pillow.  
He wondered if this was why every married couple he met was so damn sour; barely giving one another a look of approval and even sneaking out to lay with whores of either gender. He could hardly blame them, if their feelings and thoughts were as confusing as his was.  
He wondered if Cassian was as confused as he was.  
He certainly didn't look like it; the man had been confidence incarnate down at the gazebo.

Still, for all his confusing thoughts, Dorian couldn't help but smile into his pillow, hugging it a little tighter against him.  
He felt good. Really, really good.

Things were really looking up now.


	10. Heart-Break

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Dorian gets his first taste of pleasure and everything that comes with it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains sex between to consenting adults (one being 18 and one being closer to 20), but there is some doubt if Dorian actually wants it.  
> If this makes you uncomfortable in any way, you are hereby warned.

Dorian should have known it wouldn't last.  
He should have known that this was just another, typical Tevinter action.   
He should have known better and he deserved the ache in his chest. He deserved the lump in his throat, the pounding in his head and the feeling of absolute confusion, anger and nausea that was coiling around in his stomach.

Why had he even thought that it was more than just a pretty story?

Why had he allowed himself to dream?

It had been so easy... So alluring, so very, very tempting to just fall into Cassian's arm and believe every single word that had come out from between his lips.  
It was Dorian's fault. He should have known better.

Things had been so good at the start. They had been discreet, as they were both guests of the Alexius' household and they were both students of two prominent mages.   
They had to behave, to listen and remain decent.  
It hadn't been easy, considering Cassian only stayed for a week at a time, but when he was away, they wrote letters. Long letters, intimate letters, letters that Dorian cherished and looked forward to.

When Lady Alexius announced that Cassian would spend an entire month at their estate at the start of the new year, Dorian's heart had leapt with joy.  
Cassian was working on a new thesis and experiment with Lady Alexius, and it was crucial that they did not stop now.  
The prolonged time did wonders for Dorian as they could now enjoy more time together, even if the days belonged to their masters.

The nights though... Now that was an entirely different affair.

Cassian had been nothing but good to Dorian, giving him all the time in the world to be comfortable with what was happening. They spoke often, kissed and touched even more so and while they had gradually gone from just small touches to more heavy petting in the span of weeks, Cassian had never pushed Dorian.  
At least that's what Dorian had felt at the time. Now he could see that all the so-called encouragement was Cassian's way of gaining more ground. He was always the one that started their sessions after all, letting them last until Dorian ended them.

It had felt good though.   
It had felt right, and Cassian was nothing if not a very eager teacher. He had shown Dorian where and how to touch, where it felt good to him and encouraged Dorian to learn and, eventually, show Cassian where he felt good.  
Not that Cassian hadn't already found a few spots on Dorian's body that felt good, and even a couple that Dorian himself hadn't known about.  
Then again, he hadn't had much opportunity to really test that spot behind his ears for himself.

Even with them sneaking around, hiding in either their rooms or wherever they could find that was empty and private, it took Dorian over three weeks to actually conquer his nerves and do something more than just the heavy petting.  
He believed Cassian knew, possibly understood, but he never said anything. Not until that very first night.

It had been a cold night, much like the night when Cassian had kissed Dorian the first time.  
It was late, the moon was already high on the sky, and Dorian knew that Alexius and his wife had long-since gone to bed. The entire house was silent as most of the resident people were asleep.  
With the occasional slave scurrying about downstairs, preparing the kitchen and house for the next day, Dorian was awake, perched in the chair by the window, the candle he had lit close to burning down as he slowly flipped the page of the book he was reading.  
He hadn't been able to sleep; Alexius had started presenting him with more choices, now that he was halfway through his eighteenth year.  
He had yet to choose a branch of magic to specialise himself in, as most mages and Magisters did that at some point during their education. Usually they did not specialise themselves before after their Harrowing, but most read up and had selected something so they could start working on it before that time. He had not found something for his thesis yet either and while he had many ideas, he struggled finding something that he truly wanted to work with.  
On the table next to his chair was a piece of parchment and a quill, the tip black with dried in and the parchment full small words and sentences that had been scratched out almost as quickly as they had been written down. Half-assed ideas, Dorian had thought as he had tried to air out his mind and in the end he had just given up for the night. His body and brain was just too tired to actually function properly while his mind was still working on high-gear.   
In the end, he had settled for reading something simple and mindless, something to take his mind off the future for just a moment and allowing him to relax.

Dorian had almost started dozing, his eyelids slowly shutting themselves when a soft knock came from the other side of his door.

"Dorian? Are you asleep?"

Dorian could feel his heart skip a beat and he instantly smile as he recognised the voice. "Not at all, Cassian," he called out carefully, hurrying to the door so he could open it. Just before his hand touched the metal handle, he took a moment to straighten out his robe and gather his hair behind his shoulders. Maker's breath, he should have taken the time to brush it properly, but he would just have to make due.  
He opened the door and smiled wider as he saw Cassian outside, dressed in simple robes and smiling as well. "I thought you would be fast asleep by now," he murmured, nudging the door open enough for Cassian to slip inside.

"I couldn't sleep," Cassian murmured, wrapping his arms around Dorian from behind as the younger teen closed the door. He nuzzled into Dorian's shoulder-long black hair, the tip of his nose barely ghosting over the skin of his neck. It made Dorian shiver.  
"I was thinking about you. I do that a lot lately."

"You don't have to think about me anymore," Dorian murmured, his cheeks slightly red from the lovely words, turning in Cassian's arms so he could wrap his own arms around his shoulders.  
"Though I can hardly blame you for wanting to. I am rather lovely, am I not?"  
It was still a little strange to him, talking about himself in such a way. He was used to boasting, showing he was good, but this was different. In a way, he liked it. It made him feel good, even if insecurity still raged inside him from time to time.   
But Cassian... Cassian soothed those insecurities. Cassian made him feel good.

"Oh, you are," Cassian agreed, leaning in to steal a quick kiss from Dorian, then another, then a third, which he deepened almost immediately.  
"You are terribly distracting. I should ask Lady Alexius to put me in a different study or I would just gaze upon you all day."

"Then what would I look at all day," Dorian murmured, making Cassian laugh softly.

"Maker forbid that we deny each other that view," he chuckled before leaning in to kiss Dorian again, who eagerly submitted himself to Cassian's talented mouth.  
A strong arm wrapped itself properly around his waist and Dorian was tugged close to Cassian's body, letting out a small moan from the contact. One of his hand snaked itself up to Cassian's chest, grasping at the front of the robe while the other weaved itself into the older man's hair.  
"I must have you," Cassian whispered hoarsely against Dorian's lips, nipping hard at the bottom lip. "Dorian..."

Dorian swallowed hard, a small, throaty moan escaping him as one of Cassian's hand found his rump, giving it a squeeze.  
"Yes," he whispered, unable to actually deny the man. He didn't want to deny him.

He could feel Cassian's lips tug into a smile and before Dorian knew it, he was tugged towards the bed; their bodies never separating, their lips never leaving one another.  
He felt Cassian turn him so that his back was to the bed and with just a small nudge, he was on it and Cassian was on top of him.  
It was hardly new; they had been in bed together before, touching one another through each other's clothes, but this... This was different.  
Cassian was more firm, more eager and while Dorian was more than accepting of the touches, he also felt his heart beat firmly in his chest.   
Still, he continued. He allowed it. He kissed Cassian eagerly, his hands tugging slightly at the man's robes, moaning as he felt Cassian's hands slide over his back, his side, down over his rump and thigh, then back up. He felt drunk, his mind was hazy and all he could think was "more". 

Things escalated from there.  
Cassian took charge, being the more experienced out of the two and Dorian let him, taking the part of the willing student. Always so eager to learn, eager to please.  
Dorian's robes were simple, just something he had tossed on after his evening bath, and Cassian was able to easily open them, revealing Dorian's copper-skin underneath.  
At eighteen years of age, Dorian had filled out nicely; he was not as lanky as he had been, but he was still thin, his muscles small, but firm underneath the soft skin.  
Cassian didn't seem to mind, eagerly exploring Dorian's exposed body, trapping Dorian's own hands in the sleeves of the half-removed robes. Dorian let out a small whine, his body trembling, humming, responding to the experienced hands of his soon-to-be lover.

"You make the loveliest sounds," Cassian murmured, smirking as he licked a path down over Dorian's neck, nipping gently at his collarbone before his lips found a nipple. He flicked his tongue over it, earning a surprised gasp from Dorian. He grinned and did it again, letting out a pleased sound as another moan escaped the younger man.  
"Yes... Do that again," he whispered, bringing his hand to Dorian's other nipple, flicking his thumb over it at the same time as he took the first between his teeth, nipping at it.  
"Keep making those sounds, Dorian."

"Cassian," Dorian breathed, his eyes half-closed and his face already flushed from pleasure and excitement. His cock was already half-hard, straining in his smallclothes and he wanted so badly to be touched down there.  
"Maker..."

"No reason to compare me with the Maker," Cassian chuckled, breathing warm air against the nipple before his lips continued their journey downwards. He kissed over the muscles on Dorian's lean belly, nipping at the skin before pulling away.  
He grinned, his look almost predatory as he took in his work so far, a look of satisfaction on his face. 

It made Dorian flush, but he didn't shy away from the gaze. Instead he relished in it. He felt good, knowing that Cassian liked what he saw. So he sat up, shrugging his arms out of the sleeves of his robes, leaving the cloth around his waist to deal with later. He wanted to touch Cassian like Cassian had touched him.  
He reached out, his hands trembling slightly as he located the various buttons and straps that held Cassian's robes together, releasing them before pushing them off Cassian's shoulders and down his arms, revealing the body underneath.  
The sight made him swallow hard, his breath catching slightly in his throat.

Cassian wasn't much older than he was, just one and a half years, but he was definitely more developed. The chest, his stomach, his arms were muscled, firm and it made Dorian feel extremely self-conscious about his own body. It also made him all the more interested, the sight definitely stirring desire inside him. He had seen women, naked women, in paintings and pictures in books, but they had done nothing for him.   
This however... Oh, this definitely did something. The sight of the firm muscles, the firm chest lightly covered in dark, soft hair, the firm trail of slightly coarser hair that went from underneath Cassian's navel and underneath those robes...  
If his cock wasn't already stirring, it definitely would have at this sight. He could feel himself throw as it was and he had to resist the urge to bring his hand to his groin to touch himself.

"I take it you like what you see," Cassian murmured, smirking at Dorian.  
Dorian could only nod, licking over his lips as they felt more than a little dry. 

"The go ahead. Touch me, Dorian."

Dorian did and he just hoped that Cassian liked what he did. The man had more experience and that thought made Dorian feel more nervous.  
He was nothing if not a quick learner though and he remembered the spots Cassian had shown him when they had touched each other before.  
He ran his hand firmly over his shoulders, nails scraping lightly over the skin as he touched, explored, caressed.  
Cassian closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, which Dorian took as a sign of encouragement, so he continued.  
He leaned in and copied what Cassian had done to him, running his lips, his tongue, his teeth over the skin on his neck, over his collarbone and down over his chest, circling and flicking his tongue over a dusky nipple when he reached it.  
He now understood why Cassian had grinned when Dorian had moaned from it. Dorian himself did the same when Cassian moaned. It filled him with delight. He wanted to hear it again.  
He continued his explorations, his hands and mouth touching wherever they could reach from their current position, but when Dorian's hands reached the robes around Cassian's waist, the older man stopped him.

"Did... Did I do something wrong?" Dorian asked, swallowing some as he looked up at Cassian, a look of concern on his face.

"Far from," Cassian replied hoarsely, licking over his lips. "You are entirely too talented and you are driving me crazy with your touch."

"Well... I am a man of many talents," Dorian replied with a slight grin before gasping as Cassian pushed him back down onto his back, grasping at both his hands and pinning them down over his head.  
The motion both frightened and aroused him.  
Cassian loomed over him, a look of hunger on his face as he simply looked at Dorian, his breathing coming out hard and fast.

"Say it now, Dorian," he whispered, his voice gravely. "Say that you want this. Say that you want me."

Dorian breathed hard, his chest rising and falling as he just looked up at Cassian. For a moment, his mind screamed no. He wasn't sure. He wasn't sure if he was ready, he wasn't sure what he wanted. He only had a general idea about what was to come. In all honestly, he was scared and he didn't know why.  
"I want you," he said instead, arching his body up towards Cassian. "... Please. Don't stop."

Cassian smiled and Dorian couldn't help but smile back.  
"I will make you feel so good, Dorian. We will be so good together. Beautiful together," the man had whispered as he leaned down, kissing Dorian long and hard. "Trust me."

And Dorian did.

He would be lying if he said it didn't hurt, despite of Cassian's gentle touches and distracting kisses.  
The remainder of their clothes had been discarded a long time ago and they were naked on Dorian's bed, with Dorian on his hands and knees, his legs spread, his hands gripping at the bed sheets and with Cassian behind him, his well-oiled fingers thrusting slowly inside him, stretching him out. The muscles burned and Dorian felt odd, having the fingers inside him. He had read about it, read about many things, but he had never actually done it. He had been curious, which was why he had been easily convinced by Cassian to take the more submissive part. It made sense to him, being the more inexperienced one, and Cassian had promised that he would show him everything, that it would be good.  
Besides, Cassian had been gentle about it. He had taken his time, stopped when Dorian had tensed up, listening to Dorian's breathing.   
The tightness, the stinging, it was still there, but as Cassian continued to thrust inside him, his fingers sometimes hitting a spot inside Dorian that felt really good, the pain was joined by a strange pleasure. It wasn't the same as when Dorian touched himself, the good, distracting feeling when he brought himself off, but something else. A strange, good feeling of being filled, of being claimed. Of being at the mercy of someone he cared for, that he liked, of being claimed. Of being wanted.  
He wasn't sure if it was his body or his mind that started controlling it, but Dorian found that he liked it, despite the stinging and discomfort.  
He soon started begging for more.

Cassian was only too happy to give it too him.

Cassian was, naturally, a great deal bigger than three of his fingers, but he took his time in sliding into Dorian's body. The head was the worse, the crown wide and Dorian couldn't help the cry of pain that escaped him when the head slipped inside, his hands gripping tightly at the sheets.  
He breathed hard, his eyes misty and his face was buried in the sheets, trying his best to silence himself as he bit down hard at the silken cloth. Cassian's hands rubbed over his back and sides soothingly, keeping his hips still until Dorian slowly nodded his head.  
It was okay. The stinging had subsided.  
"You are doing so well," Cassian had whispered as he slid inside his lover to the hilt of his shaft, leaning his body over Dorian's back so he could kiss at his neck.   
"Maker, you feel good... So tight around me..."

Dorian had only moaned in response, unable to find the words. He felt so full, like he was about to split in two. He had touched Cassian, seen the size of his cock before they had done this, but right now it felt like it was twice the size.

Then Cassian started moving.

The first few slides of Cassian inside him were okay. He took his time, letting Dorian adjust and get used to the feeling of him inside him. Cassian's breath was hot against Dorian's shoulder and Dorian himself released a stream of small mewls and moans. Each time Cassian pulled out, he moaned. When he slid in, he mewled.  
Cassian rocked his hips gently, his hands grasping at Dorian's hips, keeping him steady as they moved.

Then he started really moving.  
He lifted his upper body up from Dorian's back after kissing him neck, his grasp on Dorian tightening as he stilled his movements. Then he slowly slid out of his lover, only to snap his hips forward hard.  
The movement caught Dorian off guard and it made him snap his head up, a loud gasp escaping him. The movement was followed by another, then another, until Cassian was fucking him in earnest with quick, hard strokes, leaving Dorian no choice but to hang on for the ride.  
There was a mix of pain and pleasure washing over him, leaving him feeling like all his strength was leaving him. He slumped forward as he grasped harder at the sheets, his face buried in the silk and a stream of moans escaping him as Cassian claimed him.  
The slight pain that was still there was overshadowed by the intense pleasure from Cassian assaulting that spot inside him with his thrusts and as they continued to move, Cassian snuck a hand down to grasp at Dorian's half-hard erection. He tugged at it, stroking it until it hardened fully again, adding further pleasure to Dorian's already oversensitive system.

He wouldn't last.  
In fact, he came embarrassingly fast.

He couldn't help it. The feeling of Cassian's hand in his prick, the ruthless assault of the spot inside him, the feeling of being filled; it all felt so good. His breathing became harder, faster, tears of pleasure leaking from his eyes until it all just climbed up and above the peak.  
He came hard, harder than he had ever come before, Cassian's name spilling from his lips along with cries of pleasure as he spilled himself onto the silken sheets under him.  
Cassian just let out a satisfied grunt and continued to stroke his hand over Dorian's now sensitive prick, his hips slamming hard into Dorian's body. Dorian had no idea when Cassian reached his end; his vision was swimming, his body was singing and he continued to make moans of pleasure as Cassian moved. It could have been seconds, minutes, even hours; he had no sense of time, no sense of anything besides the feeling of Cassian around him and inside him.

Cassian came with a silent grunt, releasing Dorian's softening cock to grasp at his hips, using both hands to slam Dorian hard onto his prick before he came, spilling his load inside of Dorian's body.  
Dorian moaned again from the feeling of the wet heat that appeared inside him, filling him up.  
Then Cassian pulled out of him, the hands vanishing from his hips and Dorian couldn't do anything else but slump forward onto the bed. Cassian wasn't far behind him, shifting so he could lay down next to him, letting an arm wrap around him and tugging him close. He was breathing hard as well and when Dorian turned his head to look at him, he could see the satisfied look on Cassian's face.

It made Dorian smile. He felt good.

"That was fantastic," Cassian breathed, smiling as he opened his eyes, looking into Dorian's eyes. "You were fantastic."

"You were pretty good yourself," Dorian whispered, loving the way Cassian chuckled when he said it.

"Oh, you are precious," he murmured, leaning in to kiss Dorian softly, and then letting his head rest on Dorian's pillow.  
"You have completely exhausted me."

"Sounds like some rest is in order then," Dorian murmured, glad that he wasn't the only one who felt spent. He was sticky from sweat and he was only half-aware of Cassian's seed leaking out of his over-sensitive ass, but he just couldn't bring himself to care. He doubted he could do much about it right now, he wasn't even sure if he had feeling left in his legs.

"A very good idea," Cassian agreed, yawning as he tugged Dorian closer, nuzzling at his forehead.

Silence wrapped itself around them, the only sound in the room being the sound of their heavy breathing slowly evening out until it was soft, calm and comfortable.

The candle that had been burning on Dorian's table had long since been snuffed out, having died out as it ran out of cotton to burn. The room was dark, comfortable and Dorian fell asleep feeling good.

The feeling wouldn't last.

As the morning came the next morning, Dorian wasn't that surprised to see Cassian gone, but he was still disappointed to wake up to an empty bed.  
Still, the thought of what had happened the night before brought a smile to Dorian's face, despite feeling sticky and sore. Nothing a nice, warm bath wouldn't take care off.

The day was a bit stranger though.  
Cassian acted completely normal, as if nothing had happened between them and Dorian wasn't quite sure what to do about that. He knew they had to be discreet, but the complete lack of anything did put Dorian a little off.  
However, Cassian must have noticed Dorian's confusion because, as they got a moment alone in Alexius' study, he gave him a small kiss and a soft "Thank you for last night" before winking and returning to his work.

That was enough to make Dorian feel better.

It would continue like that until the month of Wintermarch made way to the next month of Guardian.  
Dorian knew that Cassian would soon leave, but as he woke up on his bed, Cassian's marks still on his body, his bed empty as per normal, he did not expect that Cassian would already be gone.  
He did his normal ritual; bathed, got dressed, groomed himself and then headed downstairs to have breakfast with the rest of the household, fully expecting Cassian to be there. He actually stopped by the door when he saw the empty chair where Cassian normally sat.

Gerenon and Livia smiled and wished him a good morning, as per usual, and Dorian forced up a smile and wished them a good morning in return, sitting down on his usual chair.  
As a slave served him his breakfast; eggs, toast, thin cut of roast and lightly fried vegetables he looked towards Lady Alexius, trying to look casual. "Is Cassian sleeping in today?"

"Cassian? I am afraid he has left us. For good," Livia said, sounding a little wistful. "Such a shame, it was a pleasure having such a hard-working student for a change, but he finished up his thesis and it was time for him to present it to the First and Senior Enchanters."

Dorian almost choked on his goblet of wine, banging his chest some as he tried to regain his breath.

"Are you alright, dear?" Livia asked, a look of concern on her face.

"Yes," Dorian rasped out, clearing his throat a couple of times. "My apologizes, I just swallowed wrong," he added before letting a small, strained smile play on his lips. "And... Cassian has left already? That is... Surprising. I thought he was going to be here another week or so?"

"That was the plan," Livia replied, pouring herself a little more of the spiced wine. "But he was called back to the circle about a week ago and he was strained for time."

"I... I see," Dorian said silently, picking up his fork and using it to poke at the sliced roast on his plate. "I... I just didn't expect him to leave so soon, he... He didn't mention it."

"Truly?" Livia did actually look surprised to learn that.  
"I am sure it must have slipped his mind in all the rush, there was some pressure on him from the Circle."

"I see." Dorian merely nodded slowly, looking down onto his food.  
"I take it you saw him off then?"

"Yes. He left early this morning, before the sunrise. He had a long journey and apparently had plans to stop by his parents before returning to the circle."

Dorian managed to keep back the question 'Did he leave a message for me?' because he already knew.   
If Cassian had left him a message, they would have given it to him by now.  
"I see. Well, a shame," he said quietly instead. "I would have liked to wish him all the best, but perhaps a letter will have to do."

"If you are writing one, do let me know," Livia said with a kind smile. "I am sending him some recommendations so I would be happy to send of a message from you as well. I am sure he will be thrilled to get it."

Dorian managed to force up a smile as he nodded. "Of course he will. Letters from me are to be treasured. That is what Felix says at least."

The chuckle from both Lord and Lady Alexius was enough to force away the feeling of nausea that had gathered in the pit of his stomach.

He excused himself early from the table, claiming he was feeling a bit off from having too much wine the night before, and after soothing the look of concern on their faces, Dorian retreated to his own room.   
His bed had already been changed and made; no traces were left from their night of passion. Just like always.

His fingers itched and he wanted nothing more than to scream, to ruin something, toss something around, set the entire room ablaze.  
He hurt and he wasn't sure what hurt the most; the obvious way Cassian had set him up, the feeling of betrayal of Cassian just leaving him or the voice that told him that this was what it would always be.

He had been a fool for believing in the other man. He had been a fool to have believed him when he had said Dorian was beautiful, that they could have something beautiful together.

If it was so fucking beautiful, then why did Dorian suddenly feel so ugly and used on the inside?

Unable to prevent the sob that escaped him, Dorian sank down onto the floor, back against his bedroom door before curling his knees to his chest and burying his face down into them.

For the first time in many, many years, he cried.


	11. Closeness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Dorian finds comfort in a dear friend.

If Gereon or Livia noticed the change in Dorian's mood, they didn't say anything, but it was undeniable.

Since Cassian's departure, Dorian had grown more and more silent, having pulled away ever so slightly. He had written letters to him, as he had before when Cassian had been travelling between the Circle and the Alexius household, but the difference was that this time, he got no response.  
He would have been tempted to believe that Cassian's carriage had been assaulted on the road or something of the sort if not for the fact that Livia did get responses to -her- letters.  
It was all too obvious that Cassian was avoiding him and if that's how it was going to be, then Dorian would ignore him back.

It hurt all the more to know that he ignoring Cassian meant absolutely nothing to the other man, but setting ablaze the letters he had gotten from him in the past had made him feel slightly better.  
At least for a little while.

His work suffered as well as he spent many hours every day just staring at the pages in his book. He did well enough when Alexius was working with him, giving him focus, but when he was alone, his mind drifted back to Cassian and he just started hurting.  
He wanted to forget him, wanted to forget everything they had done together and so Dorian sought a very old friend thanks to an old memory.   
He started drinking more.  
It was all in secret, of course, and never so much that he made himself sick. At least not very sick. It was all too easy to steal a bottle of wine or two from the cellar in the evening and discreetly dispose of them in the kitchen the next day. He would drink them, in private, in his own room. Just enough for his mind to start swimming to better places and he could just lie in the cloud until he fell asleep.

His saviour would come in the form of a slightly angry letter from Felix, scolding him for not responding to his letters and it was only then that Dorian realised that while Cassian had been there, he had completely forgotten to respond to his dear friend while he was in Orlais.  
He sat down that evening, and the evening after that, but despite his earnest attempts, Dorian was unable to actually write something. Everything in his mind had just stopped and he was struggling to put even the simplest of thoughts into place, just like when he tried to work on his assignments.

Which was why it was such a surprise when Felix came home rather surprisingly during Cloudreach.

Dorian couldn't deny that seeing Felix again set his spirits high and for the first time in many months, he was able to truly smile.  
He was able to enjoy dinner with the family, listening to Felix telling stories from his time in Orlais and he found that laughing came a bit easier.  
As the mood calmed and they were gathered in the sitting-room, nipping at brandy and sharing stories, Livia touched upon the subject of Cassian, happily sharing all the research and work they had done.  
Dorian's chest ached from the mere thought and when he felt it appropriate, he excused himself back to his room to seek out comfort in a bottle of wine.

Felix, however, would have none of it.

"You know, my father did express concern about your wellbeing these last months, but I didn't think it was that bad."

Dorian had been standing with his back to his bedroom door and as a result almost dropped the bottle with red he had been holding, having just pulled it out from under his bed.  
He whirled around, clutching it to his chest while his cheeks reddened to the colour of the wine he longed for. "F-Felix, I... I did not even hear you come in."

"I know," Felix said, his expression sombre. "I didn't want you too. Father suspected that you were the one stealing the bottles, but he didn't want to say something because he knew something was troubling you. Something you felt uncomfortable talking to him about."  
Felix slowly walked into the room, as if Dorian was a large, scared animal that could attack him. Perhaps that's what he was worried about.  
"What is wrong, Dorian," he whispered as he was within an arms length. "Speak to me."

"I... It's nothing," Dorian said, trying to sound convincing, but he knew that he was just lying to himself. A person clutching at a bottle in the same way a man clutched at a lifeline when he was about to drown was anything but fine.

Felix didn't say anything. Instead he just reached out and gently took a hold of the neck of the bottle, giving it a small tug.  
Dorian let out a small huff, holding it tighter, giving Felix a challenging look, but Felix would have none of it. He just stared back, holding Dorian's gaze until Dorian slowly released his hold on the bottle, his challenging gaze becoming more a look of shame as he lowered his gaze to the ground.  
Still Felix said nothing; he merely moved away to set the bottle onto Dorian's desk before returning to his friend. He reached out and took Dorian's hands in his, squeezing them tenderly before tugging Dorian to the bed. He felt the other man hesitate the closer to the bed they got, but Felix still kept his tongue. He sat down and, with a final tug, made Dorian sit down next to him.  
He never let go of Dorian's hand, never stopped looking at him and it was that look that finally broke Dorian's resolve.

"Maker, I am such a bleeding idiot," he said, his voice shaking before the tears started coming like a waterfall.  
Felix merely released Dorian's hand in favour of wrapping his arms around him, tugging him close enough for Dorian to bury his face in Felix's shoulder, his arms wrapping themselves around Felix as if his life depended on it.  
He let Dorian cry, feeling his robe grow warm and wet from his friend's tears and he ached for him.

"There now," he whispered softly, tilting his head against Dorian's, letting one hand slide up to bury itself in Dorian's long, thick hair, caressing and petting it in what he hoped what a soothing way. It's what his mother had done for him when he had been upset as a child.

If it was the petting or just letting Dorian have this release, Felix didn't know, but after a while, the pained sobs and the tears stopped until the only thing that came from Dorian was soft, sad and wet sniffles.  
He didn't let Felix see his face as he pulled away, but as Dorian reached up to rub his eyes, Felix could see the smudges of kohl on his friend's arm and hand.

"Better?"

Dorian nodded some before pointing a slightly shaky hand towards a pitcher that was on his table. "... Can I have some water, please," he whispered, his voice raw from crying.

"Of course," Felix murmured, getting up so he could fill Dorian's glass with water instead of the wine his friend had desired earlier.  
He returned to the bed along with a piece of cloth so Dorian could dry his face, handing it to him as he sat down. He allowed Dorian the time he needed to get himself ready to actually face Felix again, but as Dorian looked up, Felix couldn't help the pained look that appeared on his own face.

Dorian's eyes were red and now that the kohl was gone from his face, he could see the amount of pain and grief that was on his face. "Oh, Dorian," he whispered, reaching up and cupping Dorian's cheek.  
"Maker, what has happened?"

"I was just a fool," Dorian whispered back, sniffing hard as he struggled with meeting Felix's gaze.   
"A fool who believed everything that was whispered to me by-" He stopped himself and bit his bottom lip hard, hesitating before finally continuing. "... Never mind by whom. It does not matter. Not anymore."

"Of course it matters," Felix said, letting his hand drop from Dorian's face. "Please. I am your friend, Dorian. Tell me and maybe I can help you."

Dorian let out a snort and shook his head. "... You cannot help me. Nobody can, Felix," he whispered.

"Don't say that," Felix said with a slight frown of his own. "It might not feel like it now, but talking about it may-"

"You don't understand, Felix," Dorian said, his voice pained as he looked at Felix again. "... I am sick. And I cannot be cured for it. I thought it was okay, I thought I could ignore it, but... But I was wrong. And I am paying for it now. As I should."

"Sick?" Felix frowned, a look of confusion in his eyes. "What do you mean sick?"

"Abnormal," Dorian whispered. "Wrong. I am wrong."

"Dorian."

Felix's voice was firm, but there was still warmth to it.

Dorian felt that lump in his throat again, feeling how it grew larger and larger until it threatened to choke him. He swallowed hard, tried to get rid of it, but it remained firmly in place.   
The voice that escaped him sounded so small, so weak, that for a second, Dorian wasn't sure if he had been the one to speak or not.  
"... I thought he liked me, Felix... But he just wanted to fuck me..."

"... He?"

Dorian nodded slowly, looking away from Felix with a look of shame and disgust on his face.  
"... Your mother's student," he whispered weakly. "Cassian. He... He said he liked me. That we were the same. He... He said I was handsome. Beautiful. He wanted me. And I wanted him back."

"Tell me everything, Dorian," Felix said, his voice still warm and with no hint of disgust in it.  
So Dorian told him everything. Absolutely everything.

He told him how he had noticed his own thoughts when he was young, but never acted on them until the day he ran away from the Order of Argent.  
How he had looked at men and felt desire when nothing was felt when he saw and spoke to women.   
How Cassian had come to the house and completely taken him by storm, sweeping him off his feet.  
How they had touched, kissed, the letters and then, finally, the sex. How Dorian had given himself to Cassian whenever Cassian had come to his room, how good it had felt to him, how he had felt, both the good and the bad.  
Everything came flooding out of him like a broken dam and Felix, Maker bless him, listened, without saying a word.

Dorian wasn't sure when he had started crying again until Felix took the cloth from him and carefully started drying his cheeks.  
"Well, I do not know this Cassian, but I know that if I see him, I will introduce him to the wide end of my staff."

Dorian blinked his eyes, surprised by the words as he looked at Felix. He had expected many things, but not that.

Felix merely smiled gently as he saw the look of surprise on Dorian's face. "... What? Should I react to the fact that you like men, Dorian? Please, I have known that for a long time as it was."

"... What?"

Felix chuckled, smiling. "Come now. How many times did we sneak out together for a pint down at the Tavern? How many girls were showering you with attention without you even batting an eye, but the second a man came in and offered you ale, you were the one fluttering your eyelashes? I am only surprised it took you this long to realise it yourself."

"But... But it is wrong," Dorian managed to stutter out, which just made Felix laugh more.

"In Tevinter, perhaps, but that is because we are stuck in the past," Felix replied, his lips tugged into a grin instead of a smile.  
"In Orlais, it is perfectly acceptable, normal even. You wouldn't believe the amount of men and women I saw, hand in hand with someone of the same gender. I couldn't believe it myself when I first came there, but now I know it is just what it is. Some people like girls, some people like men. We are as the Maker created us and there is no fault in that. At least that's what I think."

"But-"

"No but, Dorian," Felix said firmly. "Just think about how Tevinter is. You don't even see a man and a woman outside, holding hands, unless it is to prove something. There is always a respectable distance between them. Look at my mother and father. They are the so-called "mould-breakers" because they do things differently. I never realised until I was in Orlais that my mother and father are the only married couple I have seen outside court and balls that have affection for one another."

Dorian was about to say something, but instead snapped his mouth shut.  
Felix was right. Now that he thought about it, he had never seen a couple like Magister Alexius and his wife. Maker, they even shared a bedroom while his own parents had had separate quarters for as long as he could remember.

"I recognise that look," Felix mused, smirking a little as Dorian's face turned red, the look of realisation making way for one of annoyance and embarrassment.  
"You just realised something, didn't you."

"Yes and... And no. I hear what you say," Dorian replied, then shook his head. "But... That is still a man and a woman. There is no man or woman in Tevinter who has been shown being close with someone of their own gender. Affection is one thing, but this..? What I feel-"

"-is normal," Felix finished, interrupting Dorian's sentence. "Like I said, Tevinter is not the perfect recipe for how people should act. You and father have discussed that many times, have you not? The politics, the traditions?"

"I-," Dorian started before slowly nodding. "Yes, we... We have."  
They hadn't gone deeply into it, but Alexius had been very neutral when speaking of Tevinter. While other tutors he had had, had spoken of his homelands with pride and joy, Alexius had treated the subject of Tevinter with the same critical eye and open discussion as he did any other country or culture. He pointed out things he felt were good and bad, and while he had not wanted to mould Dorian's opinions, he had offered different ways to see things.  
It hadn't taken a mind like Dorian's to see the rot that lay underneath the layers of traditions once the eyes had been opened.

"Dorian," Felix said slowly, shifting his legs onto Dorian's bed so he could get more comfortable.  
"I do not know exactly what it is that is going through your mind right now. I cannot pretend I understand how much you hurt. But I know you, you are as dear to me as a brother, and I can tell you are hurting. I can tell you doubt yourself and I am telling you now that you have no reason to doubt yourself. I cannot speak for the rest of Tevinter, but I can tell you that I couldn't give a nug's arse about the gender of the person you bring to your bed as long as that person treats you with dignity and respect."  
He smiled and reached out to take Dorian's hand, squeezing it. "You will always have a friend and a confidant in me, Dorian. Whatever you need, I am here for you. As is my father, I know it. You are not alone."

"I... Thank you," Dorian said slowly and as his lips tugged into a smile, it was a real one instead of the fakes he had forced up over the last few weeks.

"No need to thank me for being a friend," Felix chuckled, squeezing the hand again before slowly easing off the bed.

"Wait," Dorian said quickly, holding onto the hand as if it was a lifeline. "... Can you stay with me? Just for tonight?"

Felix looked surprised before chuckling and smiling. "Like when we were younger? Certainly. Though you better not snore."

"I don't snore!"

"Oh, you do, you should have heard yourself when younger," Felix grinned, and then laughed as Dorian swatted him hard with a pillow.  
"Let me get ready for bed and I will come back, okay? Knowing you, you will hug the blankets and pillows too."

"I do not," Dorian protested again, but he still smiled as he watched Felix leave his bedroom, letting the door remain ajar for when he returned. While waiting, he got himself ready for bed as well, stripping out of his simple robes, tunic and pants and into something more comfortable.  
He had shared a bed with Felix on many occasions when younger, the two of them remaining up for hours just talking and laughing. It would be nice, doing that again.

True to his words, not that Dorian had expected anything less, Felix returned as soon as he was ready for bed, dressed in a long tunic and carrying his own pillows and blanket.  
"Go on now, make room for me," he said and Dorian was quick to make room in his bed for his friend.  
When there was room, Felix tossed his pillows and blanket onto the bed before making himself comfortable in it, waiting for Dorian to put out the lights before joining him.

"Thank you," Dorian said again, giving Felix a small smile as he tugged the blanket over his body, shifting so he was lying on his side, facing his friend.

"Don't mention it," Felix murmured, turning his head to glance at Dorian, his smile warm.

They remained like that for a little while, just resting in comfortable silence together.  
Felix was the first to fall asleep and Dorian couldn't help but just listening quietly to his friend sleeping, matching his breath so they were breathing together. It helped soothe him, making him feel a bit more relaxed.  
He was grateful, truly, to have Felix in his life and as he laid there, thinking, he couldn't help but feel sad that Felix was not near him anymore.  
Orlais was so far away so it wasn't like he could just travel down there for a quick visit.  
Still, despite the distance, Felix made sure that he was not forgotten thanks to the many letters he sent to Dorian, telling him about the things he had learned and seen.  
That was just how Felix was; always kind, considerate. So unlike any other Tevinter Dorian knew and Dorian could only hope that Felix's kindness would rub off on him.

Smiling some, Dorian finally closed his eyes and yawned, letting the exhaustion of the day wash over him. All the emotions that had just flooded over him had left him with a feeling of true exhaustion, as if he had spent the entire day training with the staff or his magic.  
He felt better though, he truly did. Instead of the gnawing emptiness inside him mixed with the feeling of shame and fault, he felt cared for. Safe. Warm and accepted.

As he fell asleep, he figured that that was more than enough for now.


	12. Acceptance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Dorian gets a new chance for glory.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the shortness of this chapter, but it was getting way long so I had to cut it somehow. So you get a short one here, and a longer one very very soon!

Things seemed to slide back to normal after Dorian's talk with Felix and everything just felt better.  
Felix wouldn't remain home for long, just a few weeks, but by the time he left to go back to Orlais, Dorian was feeling like his old self again; he was back to studying hard, reading, writing his essays and catching up in a few ignored letters from distant families and contacts he had made with Livia's other students.  
Cassian was a distant memory by the time summer had returned to Tevinter and the day Dorian reached his nineteenth year, a grand celebration was hold at the Alexius' household.

It was a small gathering and, just like the other two years Dorian had celebrated his day of birth in the Alexius' household, Dorian's parents were absent, but they sent gifts and letters for Dorian to read.  
The letters were strange to read, Dorian felt; impersonal, distant, as if his parents weren't sure who they were dealing with, but they always ended the same way; wishing him well and hoping that he was doing okay as well as reminding him that they missed him and loved him.

The first letter like that he had burned, but as of late, Dorian had started collecting them, keeping them in a leather-folder for later.  
Alexius and he had spent a lot of time talking about him and his parents, their relationship with him in an attempt to start mending the bridges that had been burned so long ago. They spoke of Dorian's feelings on the matter and Alexius in turn relayed all the letters that had been sent to him from Dorian's father; letters of curiosity, of worry, asking how Dorian was doing. Letters from a concerned father who wanted to see his son again. While he still insisted on them holding off any meetings until the time was right, he wanted Dorian to know that his parents were still looking out for him, worrying about him, loving him.

After learning that, Dorian felt he couldn't blame them for their actions. Not anymore.   
It might have been extreme, but with age, Dorian had come to understand their motivations. It might not have been the right choices, but Dorian knew that they had only wanted to secure a future for their only son and with that knowledge alone, he couldn't be angry with them. He was still hurt; the ache inside him still noticeable despite having been soothed, but he hoped that with time, that too would heal.

As the summer continued, Dorian became aware of the disaster that was happening in the South; the fifth blight had started, the arch demon all but confirmed to be real and Ferelden was in shambles from the disaster.  
Dorian, while interested in what was going on, it was not everyday a blight happened after all, found that news were hard to come by.  
Rumours had it that the King of Ferelden had died, betrayed by one of his own and that the legendary Grey Wardens were all but wiped out.   
Things were looking grim, word had it and it seemed like the rest of Thedas was holding their breath, just watching and waiting to see what would happen. Tevinter, unsurprisingly, ignored any pleads for help.   
Not that anyone had asked, as far as Dorian knew. Everyone knew Tevinter would not do anything unless danger was breathing down their own necks.  
He did, however, feel sorry for the people in the South and his prayers went to them, wishing them well.

Summer soon gave way to autumn, and then winter as the weeks flew by,  
Everything was going by routine by then; days of practise with magic, staff-wielding and physical training. Dorian was learning how to fence and how to use daggers, but he was also learning how to dance. That part was more embarrassing as the only dance-partner he had outside the tutor Alexius had hired, who happened to be a very unattractive man in very tight, unflattering clothes and with the most ridiculous moustache and beard Dorian had ever seen, was Lady Livia.  
He had questioned the need to learn to dance, and Alexius had explained the importance of dance was mainly two reasons; dancing was an excellent way to keep limbs nimble and make the body agile, elegant on the battlefield. Dancing was also a language in itself in court and during balls, allowing for private discussions and to impress.  
While not Dorian's favourite past-time, he did enjoy dancing and the tutor had expressed the talent he had for it; with his slender, lean and fine-muscled body, the long limbs and the air he carried himself with gave him an elegance and style that he had not seen in a long, long time, the tutor had said, which in turn had made Dorian swell some with pride.

Being praised always felt good, even now.

At the beginning of the new year, Dragon 9:31, Alexius came to Dorian's room, giving the door a sharp rap before opening it. He was smiling, holding a letter in his hand as he approached Dorian, who was sitting by his desk, a perplexed look on his face.  
"Master Alexius?"

"Wonderful news, Dorian," Alexius said while offering Dorian the letter.  
"Please, do read them yourself."

Dorian took the letter and started reading, his eyes slowly widening as he took in the words.

_"Esteemed Gereon Alexius,_

_It is with great honour and pleasure that we announce the acceptance of your student, Altus Dorian Pavus, to our Circle, as sponsored by yourself.  
We have seen the work done by young Master Pavus as presented to us by yourself, and we are most impressed with the level of knowledge that is shown in the reports and thesis's thus far._

_Because of this, we would like to start the preparations for young Master Pavus' harrowing as soon as possible so the young Master can be officially written into the Circle and reach the rank of Enchanter, making him able to further continue his research and work with us._

_We will alert you of the time of his harrowing shortly and we trust that you will continue to prepare him for his tests._

_With respect,_  
First Enchanter Raminus Marcellinus  
Circle of Minrathous" 

Dorian's own hands were trembling ever so slightly as he lowered the letter, looking up at Alexius with his mouth slightly open.  
He wanted to say something, wanted to ask what this meant, his mind not believing the words that were written down.

Alexius seemed to have noticed Dorian's surprised look, laughing softly as he gestured to the letter.  
"My dear boy, you have been accepted. You are to complete your studies with the Circle of Minrathous, my very own Circle. It is no Circle of Carastes, but I find that Circle highly overrated. In Minrathous, you will have access to books and knowledge beyond your wildest dream. It is the capital of the Imperium, after all. You will have everything readily available to you, if you continue to do as well as you have up until now and you will continue to flourish there, this I know."

"I... I do not know what to say," Dorian managed to croak out, his voice cracking ever so slightly as he stood up.

"I find that "thank you" usually suffices," Alexius mused. "That or you can send me a fruit-basket once the Harrowing is completed. I do love fruit-baskets."

Dorian let out a small chuckle before walking over to Alexius, wrapping his arms around him in a firm hug. "Thank you, Master," he whispered, squeezing Alexius close to him, feeling overcome with gratitude and happiness.

Alexius merely smiled back and returned the hug. "There now, boy. If you start crying on me, then we will both start and then where will we be?" he mused, giving Dorian's back a few, firm pats before pulling back, putting his hands on Dorian's shoulders instead.  
"Just look at you, Dorian. With all the dangers of sounding like an old man, I still remember you barely reaching up to my shoulder. Now... Now we can look each other in the eyes as equals, as men."  
Dorian had almost not realised it himself, but he had gone from looking up at Alexius until being able to actually look him the eyes, at least height-wise. Mentally, he would always look up to Alexius because the man was great. Grander than he was.

"I will call you equal," he said instead, his smile warm and wide. "When I can look you in the eyes with the title of Magister. Until then, you are my Master, my mentor."

Alexius laughed and gave Dorian's shoulders a firm squeeze. "Listen to yourself," he mused. "Two years ago, you would never have even entertained the thought of becoming a Magister. Have you changed your mind, young Pavus?"

Dorian let out a small snort. "Hardly, but it is my father's wish and if I have to take it, then maybe I can do something good with it at some point. It is not something that is concerning me as off yet, my father isn't about to die anytime soon as far as I know."  
Still, he knew there was always the reality of death lurking; diseases, accidents, downright murder. Many Magisters had died at the hands of rivals and Dorian knew many more would die in a similar fashion in the future.  
"For now, I will focus on my Harrowing, now that the opportunity has been presented to me."

"And you do right with that," Alexius agreed, releasing Dorian from his arms.  
"Take this night off, dear boy. Celebrate with me and Livia, or in town, you have more than earned some time to yourself. We will have enough to do in the weeks to come, you must be prepared in any way possible."

"Thank you, master," Dorian said with a smile. "Please, share this night with me. I do not want to drink with strangers, I'd rather be surrounded by friendly faces."

"Then that is what we will do," Alexius promised. "Come when you are ready, dinner will be served in not long. I have already asked for the cook to make something special for today. It is a day to be celebrated!"

Dorian merely continued to smile as Alexius left the room, closing the door behind him. He returned to the desk so he could read the letter again, unable to believe his luck. All his hard work over the last four years was finally bearing fruits and now... Now he would finally be allowed to call himself Enchanter.  
It had taken a long time, especially at the start of Alexius' tutoring, for Dorian to love and appreciate his magic again. He was able to find joy in casting it, feeling it inside him and while he knew that magic was everything in Tevinter, he felt he could do more than just wield it as a weapon or use it to inspire fear.  
He had yet to choose his speciality, that much he knew, but he had read about so many different ways magic could be used. In truth, he did not know what to pick yet, but now he had time to truly think about it. He knew many mages that did not choose anything, merely spending time perfecting the basic spells, but he wanted something... Special. Something unique. 

"I have time," he murmured to himself, holding the letter up so he could read it for a third time.

_"Because of this, we would like to start the preparations for young Master Pavus' harrowing as soon as possible so the young Master can be officially written into the Circle and reach the rank of Enchanter, making him able to further continue his research and work with us."_

Sitting down, Dorian pushed his papers aside before fishing up a fresh piece of parchment, eagerly dipping his quill into the ink so he could write Felix. He, more than anyone, deserved to know the good news, having been a pillar of support in everything for Dorian.

_"Dearest Felix,_

_Your father presented the most wonderful news to me today. I have been accepted to do my Harrowing at the Circle of Minrathous and if I pass, I will officially be written into the Circle's books.  
I never thought I would say it, but it is truly a dream come true for me. Now I can finally do proper work and perhaps do some good for our homeland."_

He hesitated some, lifting his quill to the side so the tip wouldn't drip onto the parchment.  
Felix was so far away; across the Waking Sea and then some, yet Dorian so desperately wanted him there... He knew if he asked, Felix would drop everything and come, but he could not ask that of him. He already owed him so much, and the man did have his own life.  
Biting at his bottom lip, Dorian pushed the letter aside until he could properly word how much he missed Felix and would like him to be there without guilt-tripping him.   
Instead he located a second piece of parchment, placing it on the desk and dipping his quill into the ink again.

_"Dear Mother and Father,_

_I am sure you are surprised to hear from me and in all honesty, I am surprised that I am writing this. I am not sure if I will send it or if Alexius will even allow me to, but we shall see._

_I am most well, better than I have been in a long time and I wanted to deliver some good news to you. I am sure you have already heard it from Alexius, as I understand it he has kept you updated on my progress and status. I hope the news you have received has pleased you._

_Still, I too wanted to inform you of the news that I have been accepted to take my Harrowing at the Circle in Minrathous. Not the first school of your choice, I know, but I am not about to overlook the offer as it is presented to me. I am sure you would agree, considering my past._

_I do hope you will be there, even if you will not watch over my tests. As I understand it, part of it is done in private, under the watchful eye of the First Enchanter and a handful of trusted men. It makes me curious about what I am about to face, but I will learn that soon enough, I suspect._

_I do miss you both dearly, and I hope you are well._

_I love you both._

_Your son,  
Dorian"_


	13. Trials

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Dorian is introduced to the tests of a proper Tevinter Mage.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As far as my impression of a Tevinter Harrowing, a Tevinter mage is properly prepared for a trip into the Fade, as seen by banter between himself and Vivienne if they are both in the Fade at the same time.  
> But I also think there's more to it than just a stroll to the Fade. After all, nobody can see how awesome you are there.
> 
> I also let this be a bit longer since its christmas. :D Also, I didn't want to break it up into two.

It had been a long time since Dorian had been in Minrathous last and he couldn't help but look around in slight awe as the carriage brought him and Alexius into the capital.  
It was a little funny, he thought as he looked at the people that were walking around, the city bursting with life in the early afternoon. Alexius had taken him to so many different cities when they had travelled, but they had somewhat avoided the capital and Tevinter's larger cities. He hadn't really thought about it until they were finally there.

This time, however, their trip was not all fun. This was strictly business and while they would indulge a little while there, there was one main purpose for the trip; Dorian's Harrowing and test.

Their first day and night in the capital was a calm one; just simple wandering around the market-place before purchasing a set of new robes for Dorian to wear before they finished the day with a lovely meal at a high-class tavern.

"In many ways," Alexius had said while they shared a bottle of fine, Orlesian wine, enjoying some peace and quiet in what Alexius had called "the gentlemen's lounge" at the tavern (and Dorian could see why, with the amount of men that were there, talking and drinking). "-tomorrow will be the most draining day for you. Just remember what I have taught you about wandering the fade and you will be fine. Violence is not always necessary. But, of course, you know that."

And Dorian did know that.  
It had been a long time since the last time he had responded to an issue with violence and started using his brain instead.  
Besides, it was so much more fun beating someone orally rather than physically. The confusion and humiliation could be triggered in so many different and fun ways.  
Not that Dorian had had many opportunities in using his oral skills, but if all went well now..?  
Well. Things would certainly change.

When the two of them finally retired for the evening, Dorian found he couldn't sleep. His half-tipsy mind was already spinning, trying to think up all the possible things that could happen when he would wander the Fade in just a few hours. He wondered what he would encounter while there.  
As a child and teenager, Dorian had, as every mage did, wandered the fade many a times while sleeping, but this would be the first time he would do it with purpose. He knew of the ritual, he had studied it, but it was still hard to wrap his head around it.  
It was one thing to let his mind drift unconsciously as he slept, it was another to have his mind sent there by a lyrium-driven ritual, but he supposed that is the way it had to be. It would do a mage no good to be sent there in such a vulnerable way without being aware of it.

When the sun rose the next day, Dorian had hardly slept a wink, but he felt more than awake as he took his morning bath, taking his time in getting himself ready for the day to come.  
As Alexius came to take him to breakfast, Dorian was dressed in the simple, black robes they had bought the day before; simple for Tevinter anyway. A black and red robe that had silver-buckles on the front, holding it together over the chest, but coming open just over his lower abdomen and handing down like a coat. Underneath he wore soft, black pants and comfortable leather shoes and in some way, the simplicity of his outfit brought him some comfort.  
When they sat down for breakfast down at the tavern, Dorian found his appetite lacking as the first signs of nerves started showing up, but he still managed to get down a piece of lightly toasted bread.  
It would just have to do.

They did not wander the streets of Minrathous like they had the day before; their trip took them directly to the Circle of Minrathous to see the First Enchanter about the first test.  
Dorian had never actually been to the Circle before, but he had seen it many times in passing, and as he looked up at the grand building now, he couldn't help but feel a sense of awe and respect.  
The building was, as the name implied, in the shape of a circle, but there were several dome-like sections around the base of it, making the first floors of it larger than the rest of the tower itself.   
The tower jutted up like a spear from the ground and when Dorian looked up, he had to bend his head quite far back to see all the way up to the top.

It was impressive, to say the least.

When they entered the circle, Dorian could, for the first time in his life, see and even appreciate the life he saw inside. With each hall they passed, he could see young men and women studying together, he could see magic being practices and explored with, he could see books with, to him, unknown knowledge.  
These were things he had not been able to appreciate as a child, but now he wanted to experience it. He wanted to see it, maybe even try to be a part of it. Maybe he would even enjoy it.  
In truth, he was a little nervous about actually being involved with people again on an academic level. Sure, he had no trouble socialising with people if he was at a tavern or even a social event, but he could still remember his time in the circles as a child. The looks, the expectations, the demands.  
As a child, he hadn't been able to handle it and while he wanted to now, even felt ready to try again, he honestly wasn't sure if he could do it.

But he would try.  
Maker, but if he could just pass his tests, he would try.

As they reached the very top floor of the circle, with Dorian being slightly out of breath by the time they got up there, Alexius finally turned to speak to him.  
"Remember what I told you yesterday," he murmured as he placed a hand on Dorian's shoulder, squeezing it. "You have a brilliant mind and you will need it in there. This is not the place to be flashy, this is the place to be smart."

Dorian nodded and inhaled deeply through his nose. "I am ready," he said before he turned to look at the wooden doors, taking a moment to prepare himself before he gave a firm knock, then opening the door as he heard the loud "enter".  
With another deep breath, Dorian pushed the heavy door open and stepped into a circular room, taking in the scene that was already laid out there.  
As it turned out, the first part of the test seemed to be surprisingly private, with only the First Enchanter, a handful of mages and a couple of Templars in the room.  
In truth, Dorian hadn't been quite sure what to expect when he came into the room, but he wasn't completely ignorant.

Unlike in the south, where the Harrowing was a well-guarded secret, Tevinter prepared their mages properly for the journey.  
The Harrowing had started here, as a way to weed out weak-willed mages and the tradition had continued. Dorian knew he would enter the fade and face a test, but the nature of the tests was more up to the Fade's inhabitant. The only thing they could do was lure a demon to the general "area" and let Dorian deal with it.  
That was just a test of the mind, however. After all that, Dorian would have to put on a "show" in order to show of his magical prowess.  
A duel, he had been told by Alexius, to show his strength and abilities. Usually against an animal, but in rare cases there had been other things let loose on the student; the rarest being a rampaging Qunari prisoner.  
The poor student had not survived that.

Of course, before that he had to actually show that he was worthy of being displayed as the introduction and the duel would be quite the spectacle, or so he was told.  
For now, he had to pass his Harrowing and prove that he had full control of his mind as well as being resilient against temptation.

This was why he had been brought to the Circle in Minrathous by Alexius in the first place after all.

"Welcome, young master Pavus," the First Enchanter said before gesturing to a basin crafted out of stone that was placed next to a very nice and soft-looking bed. Dorian assumed he would be placed there as he slept.  
"I take it you have prepared yourself well?"

"I have," Dorian said, his voice steady as he stepped further into the room, jumping slightly as he heard the door shut behind him.

"Good. Then I assume you know what will happen now? And what will happen if you fail?"

"I know," Dorian confirmed, looking into the First Enchanter's face.  
The man was old, his clean-shaven face wrinkled, his short, grey hair receding, but he still managed to look intimidating. Nothing about this man was frail, he quickly realised.

"Then I see no point in delaying this further," the First Enchanter replied as he took a step to the side, allowing Dorian free access to the basin.  
It was a large one, easily reaching Dorian to his stomach, with a wide surface filled with a blue-coloured liquid that glowed weakly in the dimly lit room. Lyrium, Dorian recognised, both by the sight and the smell.  
On the basin itself were several inscriptions that he recognised as runes and enchantments, and on the floor itself was a seal of capture, no doubt to seal any possible possessed mages in should something go wrong.  
They were well prepared.

The First Enchanter presented Dorian with a golden goblet, because Maker forbid that he would use his -hands-, which Dorian took with slightly shaky hands.  
He wasn't scared, not really, but he was nervous. Nervous about what he would face in there.  
Before the nerves could get the best of him, he dipped the goblet into the liquid and brought it to his face, not hesitating as he swallowed two mouthful's of the liquid, grimacing some as the bitter taste of lyrium assaulted his taste-buds and leaving a horrible aftertaste.  
He could feel the liquid do its job as he felt both a surge of power as well as a fog clouding his mind, making him feel incredibly tired. Before he could set the goblet down, he lost grip of it, watching through a haze as it landed into the basinet before he himself slid down onto the floor, only halfway aware of strong arms capturing him before he fell into a deep sleep.

***

Dorian wasn't sure exactly how long he had been asleep before he finally opening his eyes, letting out a small groan as the colours of the Fade swirled softly around over him. He could see the faint glows from curious spirits linger over him before vanishing, quickly loosing interest in the human mage that had found its way to their domain.

He felt a little nauseas as he sat up, rubbing over his face as he slowly managed to gather himself, needing a moment just to get used to it.  
He had wandered the fade in his sleep before, sure, but this was different. It felt different. He knew he wasn't there physically, but he was more aware of everything. He felt he had control and that knowledge alone was enough to bring him comfort.

"Well then," he murmured as he pushed himself up onto his feet, stretching his arms up before he started walking. "Let's see what we can find in here..."

It was special, wandering the fade the way he was now. When he dreamt, he had usually lingered where he was, just watching and finding amusement or comfort in the spirits that dropped by him, but he rarely interacted. He wasn't sure if he had been able to as he wasn't sure if he was aware of where he was when he was actually asleep, only realising it after he had woken up.  
Now, however, he felt as if he had full control of everything, free to interact with whatever he wished.  
As another spirit floated over to him, Dorian reached out towards it, smiling as the spirit seemed to slide over, then under his arm, its energies tickling him before it floated off. At least he had had a warm welcome to the Fade, even if his end-goal had not been reached yet.

Dorian had no idea how long he was wandering though before the Fade started to change, the large, almost shapeless rock-formations changing into smooth, white stone the further along the pathway Dorian walked.  
With the stone came beautiful, red draperies along with soft-glowing torches illuminating the hallway as it shaped around him. The further he moved along, the more wondrous it became, the hallways filling up with golden statues, silken draperies, beautifully carved benches with silken pillows.   
"Reminds me of our summer-home," he mumbled to himself as he continued down the hall until he reached a closed door. For a moment he considered knocking before he reminded himself that he was not here to visit. This was a test and he suspected he had just found it. He hesitated for a moment before pushing the door open, revealing a most beautiful scenery.  
While the slight warp and glow of the fade was still very much present, whoever was here had managed to conjure up a beautiful garden, with a large tree in the middle of the open room. Two chairs and a table were by the tree and in one of the chairs...

Dorian had to such in a deep breath as the figure stood up, flashing him a beautiful smile as he allowed Dorian a good look of him.

"Ah... Dorian Pavus. I have been waiting for you. Please... Come in," the figure said as it reached out a tanned, elegant hand. The owner of said hand was just as elegant-looking; handsome, with long, black hair that was tied into a braid, beautiful eyes the colour of fine brandy, defined cheekbones and a smile that definitely did something to Dorian's insides.  
He had to be careful.

"I was not aware I was expected," he managed to say instead, plastering on his best, confident smile as the man chuckled, seemingly not minding that Dorian was ignoring his hand.

"Of course you were," he said as he gestured for Dorian to have a seat instead, moving to sit back in his chair again as well.  
"I was instantly aware that you had come here and I had to rush a bit to make this place look... Presentable. I am sure you understand."

Dorian raised an eyebrow, but he did take the offered seat, crossing one leg over the other as he made himself comfortable.  
This... Was not what he was expecting. The demon was apparently making no effort to hide, but to what gain? It was not like Dorian would relax his guard around it even if he knew it that his company was a demon.  
Unless it was not a demon, but a spirit of sorts... He would have to play his cards closely to his chest.  
"Of course," he said instead, keeping his smile on. "Unannounced visitors can be so tedious, yes? You just feel so stressed when they show up, especially if you have ignored the spring-cleaning for a little too long."

"Exactly," the man said before gesturing to a bowl that was standing on the table. "Now, what kind of host am I? We will need refreshments." He tilted his head, the beautiful, amber eyes studying Dorian intensely before he smiled.   
"You look like a man who favours grapes," he said as he waved his hand over the bowl, summoning plump and tasty-looking grapes into it. He broke off a small branch that held three grapes on it, then carefully plucked one off and popped it into his mouth. "Mm... Yes, this is acceptable," he moaned as he checked, plucking another grape from the branch and offering it to Dorian.

Sceptical, Dorian plucked the grape from the man's hand, studying it for a moment before biting into it, his curiosity getting the best of him. It wasn't like his body could get poisoned in the fade, but he had to be careful still.  
Still, the grape was delicious and he did let out a somewhat involuntary moan as he swallowed the juicy piece. "Very much so," he agreed before eating the rest of the half-eaten grape.

"I must say though, Dorian," the man continued, smiling warmly at Dorian as the mage reached out to take a small branch of grapes for himself.  
"I am quite honoured that you chose to come to my little corner of the Fade. You are desired by many here."

"Am I now," Dorian asked before popping another grape into his mouth, chewing slowly on it before swallowing.  
"While I am fully aware of my physical qualities and mental prowess, I wasn't aware that I was watched here as well?"

"You must be joking," the man chuckled, as if Dorian had just told a very funny joke.  
"A man such as you? You are the envy of any spirit here in the fade. Oh, if only you knew how many spirits gather when you dream, Dorian. Your thoughts are delicious, fascinating, definitely worth listening to."

"You flatter me," Dorian murmured, hoping his cheeks weren't as red as they felt.

"Flattery that you have earned, Dorian," the man continued, reaching out to place a hand on Dorian's knee, giving it a squeeze.  
"I do not think you are aware of how much you have to give... We know that the outside world does not know... You are so very underappreciated out there, Dorian, but in here..? Oh, if we had kings, we would make you one."

_'That's layering it a bit thickly,'_ Dorian thought to himself, but he kept the smile up as he tried to place the man.  
He was obviously taking the road of flattery to get into Dorian's good side, but to what effect..? He had dismissed the possibilities of it being a demon of rage, sloth or envy; the knowledge he had on those particular brands of demons did not add up with the behaviour this creature was showing.  
Pride, perhaps..? Or desire? It was honestly hard to tell, Dorian was getting mixed signals.  
"Well," he said instead, licking some of the grape's juice from his bottom lip as he pretended to be completely uninterested in what the creature had to say. "As lovely as it is to finally be recognised by my obvious talents and mind, I have this tiny voice telling me that there is something you want in return."

"I only want you to succeed," the man murmured and Dorian did flinch a little as the man moved his hand to his cheek, cupping it. The hand was warm, soft, and Dorian actually had to fight himself from leaning into the touch.  
"I know how you feel, Dorian... Out there... You know, don't you? What you can and what you cannot have. And it's not right, being judged just because you have desires that are a little different from others... There are so many like you, you know, but they are afraid of showing it, just like you are. But you don't want to hide, do you? You want to show it, you want the -right- to have whoever you want without the judgement, don't you."

Dorian swallowed, not wanting to trust his own voice as he looked at the creature. "Who doesn't," he finally answered somewhat cryptically.

"Indeed... Who doesn't want to be accepted for who they are...? Here, Dorian, in the Fade, we do not judge. We give into desire, into wants, we accept and we have fun with it. And you can have that too."

"No offence," Dorian murmured as he shifted his head out of the tender touch, breaking the almost hypnotic gaze. "But I do not think we mean the same thing."

"Oh, but we do," the man chuckled as he rose from the chair, walking slowly around until he was behind Dorian. He placed his hands on Dorian's shoulder, squeezing them tenderly.  
"I know what you want, Dorian. I can see it so plainly on your face. You just want to love and be loved. You want someone who loves you for who you are, for someone to accept you for who you are. And I do that, Dorian. I accept you. I can even love you."  
He leaned down and nuzzled at Dorian's neck, making him shiver. "I think I already do, Dorian... You, who are so sweet and kind... You are not like the other Tevinter bastards. You have such a good, giving heart, a heart that is aching so badly from so many things that has been done to you... I can heal your heart, Dorian... Let me heal it."

Dorian felt as if he had frozen in his chair as the creature continued to speak, the words sounding sweet, comforting, so very, very promising... How easy it would be to just give into what the demon wanted, how tempting it was...  
Closing his eyes, Dorian inhaled deeply. "... And your terms," he asked, his voice surprisingly calm and collected.

"Simple terms," the man murmured as he moved his mouth over Dorian's neck and jaw-line, nuzzling at him, but instead of the warm flesh he had previously felt from his hand, the skin felt harder, colder... Perfect. That made it easier.  
"Just let me in, Dorian... Let me in. We can have a perfect world here, you and I... We can live our lives, just as you want it. And from time to time, I can go out there, look through your eyes, help you be the perfect mage that your father so desperately wants... The perfect son, the Magister. The Archon. I can give you all of that, Dorian... If you just let me in."

Dorian could feel his heart thump almost painfully in his chest as the creature spoke, the words hitting dangerously close to home. It was almost tempting, the thought of his father being proud of him... But another part of him, a part that sounded dangerously similar to his father, chastised him for even thinking about it.

The demon, because Dorian knew that the damn thing was no regular passive spirit, took his silence as consideration, and took his time in caressing his fingers over Dorian's throat, the cold, hard fingernails scraping over his skin.  
"Just think about all the wonders we could do together, you and I," he whispered. "Your talent and brilliant mind, my powers and resources... We could rule the world, you and I."

That was enough.  
He had already prepared his spell long before the creature had even opened his mouth and the look of complete shock and pain that crossed the demon's features as Dorian grasped his hand, placing a seal on it after hissing a simple spell was oddly satisfying.  
The demon let out a shriek and as Dorian got up from his seat, a fireball already conjured in his hand, he was finally able to take in the desire-demon in its more natural form.

The once tanned skin was grey and while the physical body still closely resembled a human male, its legs resembled more those of a goat than of a human. A tail was angrily swishing behind him and, instead of the long, black hair it had purple fire and long, elegant horns sprouting from its scalp.  
He supposed the demon was still handsome, but the angry sneer was anything but, especially after Dorian sent the fireball towards the demon's face.

He didn't have much time and he knew he needed distance between himself and the furious demon.  
Before the demon could regain himself from Dorian's attack, Dorian had already placed up a barrier around himself in addition to several sigils on the ground. They were simple, quick spells, but they would give the demon plenty of things to think about if Dorian unleashed them.  
For now, it seemed like the seal on the demon's hand was enough to pause it, which told Dorian that the demon was not here to fight. It was clutching his hand almost desperately, its yellow eyes glaring at him with a mix of desire and hatred.

"Oh, don't be such a baby, it is only a seal of fire," Dorian said with a raised eyebrow.  
"Of course, it will burn more and more unless I remove it."

"You fool," the demon hissed, still clutching the hand Dorian had sealed with his other hand. The seal was spreading rapidly and Dorian could see the fiery lines as they slowly started spreading over the demon's arm.   
It was hardly a loss, this wasn't a demon's true form, but it was sure to hurt like a bitch and would force the demon to spend a lot of energy regaining itself. That in itself was satisfying enough.  
"I could have given you everything you desire! Why deny me?!"

"You can hardly give me the world, demon, and you know it," Dorian sneered back, stretching out his other hand. With a snap of his fingers, the rune on the demon's hand burned harder, making it scream.  
"Besides, why in the void do I want the world, I have hardly anywhere sensible to put it," he added with a small smirk.

The demon just glared at him, then fell to its knees as Dorian snapped his fingers again. Flames started breaking through the burning lines, setting the demon's hand on fire. The demon shrieked, holding its hand out in a desperate attempt to get the flames further away from his body.  
"Instead of tormenting me," it hissed, fangs bared at Dorian in an angry, pained snarl. "Then kill me. Finish me."

"No," Dorian said, frowning some. "Because that is what you expect of me. But I know that if I kill you, something else will just take your place. Besides, if I kill you here, now, it will just lure other beings here and quite frankly, I tire of this place."

The demon chuckled, the grin predatory despite the look of pain on its face. "Compassion. You won't last long in your world if you hold onto that. Tevinter is like an open table for creatures like me, pride, desire and envy seeping from every mortal, including you. Don't pretend you are better than them."

"I am no better than them," Dorian said as he turned away, leaving the demon to deal with the run on its own. "But I can be better than most. And I intend to be."  
He stopped for a moment before turning his head to look over his shoulders. "Besides, those grapes were horrible sour. Try better next time."

And with that, he left the palace, not watching as the surroundings shimmered around him, and then simply fell apart as the demon shrieked from the inside. He just kept walking, ignoring the hammering of his heart as he started making his way back to... He wasn't sure. But he had to go back.  
He wasn't sure where he was heading, more or less just going by instinct, letting himself be pulled to where the Fade felt... Familiar.  
He could sense spirits around him, curious as they followed him for a few seconds, then heading off again as something else caught their attention.

Whimsical little things, he though with a slight smile as he kept walking.  
He could see a small group of spirits gathered at the edge of a pathway and Dorian felt somewhat relieved as he saw the light glowing. He could feel something familiar from it and he knew that that was his way out.  
He whispered a soft "thank you" as he passed the spirits, halfway wondering if the spirits had helped him find his exit, but it did not matter.

He had to leave now, before the First Enchanter deemed that he had spent too long in the Fade and had him killed.

He had to wake up.

So he did.

***

The collar felt tight around Dorian neck and even though he could feel his heart hammer in his chest, he also felt excited. Anticipation.  
This was his moment, his chance to prove himself.

He had been groomed to perfection; this was as much a test as it was a statement, and he knew that several eyes would be on him.   
His long, dark hair had been pulled back into a ponytail with just a few strands loose to frame his sharp face. His eyes had been outlined with kohl, giving him a sharp, intense look and his facial-hair had been groomed into a circle beard, bringing out his chin and lips.  
His outfit was in the traditional black and golden colours of Tevinter, the end of the sleeves and bottom of the robes decorated with golden patterns. The lines of the robes were sharp-cut, showing the black silken pants underneath.  
Dark-brown leather gloves and boots completed the picture and, around his neck for the world to see, was his birthright, showing his family lineage.  
He just hoped this would be a moment of pride and not disaster.

"How are you feeling, Dorian," Alexius asked, smiling at his student as they waited for the test to being.

"Good," Dorian replied, but there was a slight crack to his voice that made him flush. "... Mostly good. Nervous. Excited. All of the above?"

Alexius merely laughed and gave Dorian's shoulder a pat. "You are wise to be. Only a fool goes out there feeling completely unafraid. What you are about to face is dangerous, but there are people at watch. This is not a duel to the death after all."

"Unlike what could have happened in the Fade," Dorian replied with a small, strained chuckle.  
Almost three days had passed since his trial in the Fade; a trial, the First Enchanter said, he had passed quickly.  
Even if his trip had felt like it had taken hours, he had only been asleep for roughly twenty minutes before he woke up, dizzy and disoriented. They had given him some space, though one of the Templars had apparently had his hand on the hilt of his sword, ready to attack in case it was not Dorian that had come out.  
When Dorian had mumbled out a tired "... By the Maker, the Fade is a shit place", then promptly falling asleep again due to exhaustion, they had deemed the test concluded before leaving him to sleep of the trial.

Alexius had found the response quite hilarious while Dorian found it more embarrassing.

"Could have, but didn't," Alexius chuckled, patting Dorian gently on the back.   
"You did fine in there, my boy, and you will do fine here as well. That much I know."

Dorian nodded firmly before looking at his mentor, a brief glimmer of insecurity visible in his eyes. "... Is mother and father here," he asked, his voice low.

"I believe they are and if they had not shown up, I would have had some choice words to say about that," Alexius said, his voice firm.  
"But do not think about them, you are here because of your accomplishments, Dorian. You got yourself here and you have what it takes to impress them all." The hand still resting on Dorian's shoulder squeezed firmly before releasing him. "I believe in you, Dorian. And I am proud of you."

"Thank you," Dorian said and if not for the fact that he was supposed to look his very best, he would have hugged the man firmly.

Before long, the grand bell sounded through the hallways and Dorian left the preparation-room, hand grasping hard at his staff as he took quick steps towards the auditorium.  
It was quite similar to his favourite staff as a child, but instead of a snake made out silver, the entire staff was carved out of ebony-black wood, with three snakes coiling out from the top, mouths open and emerald-green stones gleaming in their eyes.   
A gift from the entire Alexius' family.

He stopped outside the grand wooden doors, trying his best to keep himself distracted from his nerves by following the exquisite patterns hammered into the doors; gold-painted battles between mages and dragons in-between intricate patters and spirals and, at the very top, the carved in images of the Old Gods.

The bell sounded again and Dorian straightened his back, trying his best to look as calm and confident as he could. Thankfully, the art of deception was one he had mastered as a child; letting his face show something else than what he was truly feeling.  
So it was with an aura of confidence that Dorian stepped into the auditorium, letting the bottom of his staff touch the ground in time with his steps. He walked slowly, letting his eyes roam over the audience.  
A very typical Tevinter event he felt; Magisters, enchanters, senior enchanters and, of course, the First Enchanter. They were all watching him; Dorian Pavus, the scion of House Pavus, the Altus. The gifted.  
They were all watching and judging. Some hoping for his success, others hoping for him to fail.

He would not fail.

He thought about Alexius, about the preparations. _'Remember, this is a show. You are the star and you are going to mesmerize them,'_ Dorian thought, repeating the words Alexius had told him so many times before this very day.

As he neared the very centre of the room, the show began. He lifted his foot to take his next step and, upon his will, he started leaving fiery footsteps in the ground. After five steps, the first fiery footprints started coiling, burning before following him, taking the shape of serpents slithering over the marble-floors. When he reached the centre, he stopped, not watching as the small serpents started merging with one another, becoming bigger, until a large, fiery serpent slithered up to him, then up his body. Still holding onto his staff with his right hand, he stretched out his left, letting the snake coil partly around it, most of its body settling over his shoulders. He could feel the heat of it against his face and neck, but it did not hurt.   
This was his magic, his power and it could not hurt him.

Dorian could feel everyone's eyes on him and, with a deep breath, he tossed his left arm up, sending the snake upwards. It soared before exploding into a beautiful fiery pattern, sparks raining down over the middle. He did not watch as he cast his magic, letting the audience admire his pyrotechnic display. He inhaled deeply, slowly, feeling with his magic how the fiery cloud and smoke above him started vanishing before he let his magic form what was left from the fire.   
From the smoke and fire, he allowed a large serpent-like dragon emerge, coiling and flying around the circular room, large wings flapping.  
All an illusion, of course. Parlour-tricks to impress, but by the looks of the audience it seemed to work.

The dragon took another round around the circular room before coming towards Dorian. With a fiery roar, it lunged, but inches before it would hit, Dorian let it split in two, feeling the heat as it soared past him, crashing into the ground. As the split body fell onto the floor, Dorian's magic shaped it, letting the fire melt into the stone-floor until a fiery pattern was temporarily seared into the surface.  
The seal of House Pavus.

As the seal burned, he looked up to his audience, letting his eyes land on the First Enchanter.  
"My name is Dorian Pavus," he called out before bowing, adding a slight flourish to the gesture.  
"Son of Halward Pavus and Aquinea Thalrassian, student of Magister Gereon Alexius. I thank you for granting me this chance."

The First Enchanter stood up, eyes fixated on Dorian. "Dorian of House Pavus," he called out, clasping his hands behind his back.  
"Your name is known to us for more reasons than one. I trust you know why you have been granted this chance."

"I do," Dorian replied, his voice firm and strong despite the beating of his heart. "And I am honoured that you have granted me this test, First Enchanter."

"We shall see if the honour is ours," the First Enchanter replied. "You have much to prove, despite your success in the Fade, Master Pavus. Now we are all eager to see if you are just as skilled out here, or if your mentor is all talk or not."

"I am ready," Dorian called out.

"We shall see."  
The First Enchanter tilted his head, eyeing Dorian intensely before he spoke again. "I trust you have been informed of the challenges ahead?"

"I have, First Enchanter," Dorian responded, inhaling deeply as he waited for the next part.

"Then get ready, young Pavus." The First Enchanter lifted his hands up before speaking again. "Dorian of the house of Pavus is ready to face his final test. Sound the bells and let us see what the young lord can do!"

Dorian felt his heart skip a beat as the sound of the bell was heard, echoing around the circular room. His eyes were still up on the stands, scanning for the familiar faces of his parents, wanting to know if they were there...  
He could hear the metallic clanks of a gate being opened and his eyes dropped to watch it, cursing himself for not having noticed that there was a damn room underneath the stand where the First Enchanter was sitting.  
He held his breath and looked into the dark room, then once again felt his heart skip a beat as he heard a hiss coming from the darkness.

He took a step back as a creature the size of a bear came scampering out, injured wings stretching and flapping desperately while its head hissed as it stared at Dorian with yellow eyes.  
A wyvern and it looked a good mix of furious and scared. Dorian could hardly blame it, taking in the state of the wing-like appendages jutting from its front-legs, the cuts and wounds on the blue and white scales.  
It opened its mouth and let out a bellow, showing a mouth full of perfectly sharp teeth.

Dorian was amazed that he was still able to stand as he took his staff in hand, it's top facing the floor while the length of his staff resting comfortably against his lower arm with the end of his staff facing upwards.   
He stared at the wyvern, eyes challenging it, hoping that he didn't look as scared as he felt. He was fully aware that a wyvern was poisonous and if he got bit, he could be done for.

The Wyvern just looked back at him, brisling, the large tail swaying behind it as sized Dorian up. It somewhat reminded him of a huge cat, like the lions he knew some of the Magisters liked keeping as pets.

When the wyvern did it's first trying snap after him, Dorian quickly stepped back and retaliated by summoning a small wall of fire between him and it.  
The wyvern quickly pulled back, but Dorian knew it wouldn't hold it back for long. They were still sizing one another up with Dorian trying to figure out what to do and how to do it quick enough to cut the battle short.  
The wyvern had thick skin and while fire would hurt it, it would only serve to piss it off and in turn make it more dangerous. The obvious weak-spots was the soft underside and the inside of the large mouth, and while the wyvern opened its mouth often enough to bellow at him, it would be hard to toss a proper spell in there.

Hard, but definitely not impossible.

His time of thinking was cut short as the wyvern let out an angry snarl and suddenly jumped through the fire, lunging for Dorian with surprising speed.  
Dorian reacted as if on instinct, casting a barrier around himself which was almost instantly broken thanks to two quick swipes by the powerful claws.  
He swirled his staff around before sending several arcane-blast towards the wyvern. It would hardly do anything, but it would sting enough to give the creature pause, which was all Dorian needed. As the wyvern hunched a little together, protecting itself against the blasts, Dorian quickly cast a new spell. The ground around the wyvern glowed for a moment before several bolts of lightning charged through it, stunning it in place with a howl of pain as the jolts jumped between open wounds, into its eyes and even through its open mouth.

Readying himself, Dorian cast several small fire-runes around on the floor, ready to dance between them as he prepared his plan. He would need a lot of mana to get this done, but it would be effective if he could time it right.

The wyvern was sensing the strength in its foe and was becoming more wary, but Dorian could fix that with ease with a flick of his wrist.  
Fire danced over the wyvern's scales as Dorian's fire-spell came to life, licking over the wounds and making the creature cry out in pain. The wyvern bellowed and lunged, and as Dorian quickly sidestepped, the wyvern landed hard onto the floor, right onto one of Dorian's runes. It exploded, catching the sensitive underside as flames licked over the scaly hide, making the wyvern thrash in pain.  
It was oddly satisfying, but Dorian also didn't want to torture the animal mindlessly. He would finish this quickly.  
The wyvern was already tired, but with the exhaustion came desperation. It wanted to live and it wanted Dorian dead.

It lunged again, its powerful claws scratching over his barrier, which popped with a crackle, but Dorian was ready to summon another. He let out a grunt as the wyvern suddenly turned, slamming him hard with its tail, sending him backwards, but the shield was holding. It did leave him somewhat off balance as the wyvern came towards him, it's large mouth open and ready to bite, but another lightning bolt brought the animal down. It snarled as it pulled away, but Dorian could almost control it with his lightning attack, moving it in the direction he wanted. His primary goal was to bring distance between him and it, but he also used the opportunity to move it over to a second rune. The rune under it exploded as its back-leg stepped on the rune, sending another wave of fire over its underside, backside and pain. Dorian could smell the burning hide and it somewhat made him gag.

The dance continued until two more of Dorian's fiery runes went off, with Dorian easily able to kite the wyvern where he wanted it with well-placed lightning-attacks and trails of fire. As the last rune went off, the wyvern slowed down considerably, its tail lashing out in an attempt to hit the human in front of it. Dorian could see how it was dragging its hind leg behind it and when he looked, he could see that the last rune had almost blasted the leg off.   
The wyvern was harmless now; it couldn't do anything further to him unless Dorian willingly went over there and stuck his head in its mouth.

The wyvern bellowed again, but Dorian could only hear the pain in the creature's voice and he could only sympathize. What was this but just another show to amuse the masses? Its death would the senseless; the body would probably be burned or tossed away. None of its venom would be harvested for potions, its hide was too damaged to be used and even if it was whole, Dorian doubted that they would bother skinning it.   
Nothing would come from this except Dorian's own gain and reputation.  
He could drag this out for as long as he wanted, torture the animal for the amusement of the masses, but he couldn't. He didn't have it in him.

He took a moment to look around him, to see the mass of people stare at him, but there was no sound besides the wyverns pained growls. This wasn't an arena or sport, this was a test so everyone was watching him in silence, judging him performance.  
He looked back to the animal, swallowing hard. He had never actually killed anything, unless bugs counted, and his heart actually throbbed hard at the mere thought of it, but he also knew that the longer the animal suffered, the crueller it was.  
'Make it quick,' he thought to himself as held his hand out, frost already gathering on his fingertips. He waited until the wyvern opened its mouth to bellow at him before he released his magic. With a crackle, an ice-lance shot out from his hand and pierced through the wyvern's mouth. The animal twitched from the surprise before slumping over, the thick red blood gathering, and then overflowing from its mouth.

Dorian could taste the bile of his mouth as he looked at the animal. He felt no sense of pride for himself, but as his eyes were drawn to the crowd, he could still feel his nerves string up again.  
Nobody said anything, but even as the First Enchanter stood up, all eyes remained on him.

"Dorian of house Pavus," he called out and Dorian couldn't help but swallow.  
Had he done something wrong? Wasn't he supposed to kill his foe, only to subdue it? Had he taken it too far?  
For a moment, he felt like he was a child again, being stared at and judged while wearing robes that were a little bit too big, with eyes too big for his head and a mind so full of thoughts and questions that it made him dizzy.  
How he managed to straighten up, he had no idea, but he managed. His hand was gripping his staff so tightly it was starting to hurt and if he looked, he would see how white his knuckles were; a stark contrast to his normally dark skin.

"Your display on the floor," the First Enchanter continued while slowly clasping his hands behind his back, standing straight and proud as he gazed down at Dorian. He stopped, let the moment linger and Dorian cursed the man in his mind. Why couldn't he just bring his verdict and be done with it?!  
"-was one of finesse, of skill and talent," the First Enchanter finally continued and even from his spot in the dome, Dorian could see a ghost of a smile on the man's lips.  
"Your presentation was a fine one; simple, yet elegant. And your battle with the wyvern was equally fine. You showed respect for your foe and displayed authority over it."

Dorian fought down his own smile and merely bowed graciously for the First Enchanter. "I thank you for the compliments, First Enchanter."

"Because of this," the First Enchanter continued, holding a hand up. "-I will proudly announce this test as completed and passed, with a level of skill and elegance that I expected based on your master's compliments of you. I welcome you, Dorian of house Pavus, to the Circle of Minrathous, as a proper mage, Enchanter and worthy of your title as Altus!"

Dorian was about to open his mouth, but stopped as he heard the sound of applause behind him. As he turned, he expected it to be Alexius, but all breath left him as he saw who it was.  
It was his father, slowly walking towards him, slowly clapping. He was smiling, beaming, and Dorian could see the unshed tears in the man's eyes as he slowly approached his son.

Dorian swallowed hard, his mouth slightly open, but he couldn't get out a single word. It didn't seem to matter as Halward grasped his shoulders and tugged him in for a firm hug, holding him close.  
"My son," he whispered. "I am so _proud_ of you."

"Father..."  
Dorian's voice hitched as his own arms came up to wrap themselves around his father, hugging him just as tightly back.   
They stood like that for some time, just holding one another. It had been four years since they had seen each other last and it was like all the anger, all the pain Dorian had held inside him melted away, just from seeing his father again. Just from seeing that proud smile on his face.  
He had done it, he had finally done it. He had made his father proud.

As Halward pulled away, hands still on Dorian's shoulder, Dorian couldn't help but smile, not caring about the fact that the tears in his eyes were bound to create streaks of black down his cheeks if he let them shed.

"You must cut your hair," Halward chuckled as he reached a hand up to touch the long hair, but Dorian could hear the humour in the man's voice.  
"Your mother is going to have a fit when she sees it."

"Nice to see you too, father," Dorian chuckled, his voice slightly shaking as he spoke.

Halward merely chuckled and hugged Dorian close to himself again, and Dorian relished in the attention.

_'I did it,'_ he thought to himself as he let himself enjoy the hug.  
 _'I finally did it. And I can do it again and again. Whatever it takes. Anything to make him happy. Anything.'_


	14. Livia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Dorian is welcomed home and meets up with family and his fiancee.

After he passed his tests and officially got to sign his name in the Circle of Minrathous' book, Dorian felt a strange sense of pride, joy and even pleasure, a pleasure that would vanish almost as quickly as it came.

His return home had been a grand, joyous one and he was almost surprised that his mother mentioned his long hair just once as she embraced him, but he still felt a slight sting was when she mentioned "how much better you look without that silly ring in your nose. It made you look like a savage".  
Still, he felt glad to be home again and he felt proud as his father spoke about him to his mother with pride in his voice instead of shame.  
It made the slight discomfort worth it.  
The servants seemed just as happy to see him, and when Dorian’s parents weren’t looking, he allowed the female servants to fuzz over him, pinching his cheeks and gushing over “how big he had become”.  
It was like having a dozen grandmothers and it was a different kind of attention than the glorification he received by his parents. It was simpler, more natural, and felt just as good.

However, he had only been allowed a mere two days of relaxation, making himself familiar once again with his old, childhood home and room before the house was buzzing with preparations.  
A grand party that was to be held in his honour, naturally. He was the lost son who had finally returned home to his family, honour restored and with a bright future ahead of him.

The evening of the party was a slightly cold one, with Tevinter still being in its winter-months, but the inside of the grand Pavus mansion was warm, with several mage-fires lit for warmth and comfort.

Dorian found, as he watched his father greet and speak to their guests, presenting Dorian to faces he could only barely remember from when he was a child, that he wanted to make his parents proud of him.  
He wanted to make their relationship work, to actually be a good son.  
Halward sounded so proud, so certain as he spoke to his fellow Magisters, bragging Dorian up into the heavens of what a bright future his son had. It made Dorian feel the all too familiar weight of expectations, but this time it was different. He was older now, smarter, wiser. He had trained, studied and he knew what everything meant. He could shoulder the load this time. 

“Well, all in due time, of course. You are hardly done yet, father, and I have my own studies to tend to first,” he had said when one of their guests, a Magister Dorian recognized as one of the oldest ones within the Magisterium, had inquired about his future.  
A well-received answer as Halward had smiled and nodded, placing his hand on Dorian’s shoulder and squeezed it affectionately. 

“Of course, Dorian. You are young and your studies should come first. For now.”

It was that “for now” part that had Dorian somewhat more worried, but he would deal with that later.  
For now, he felt the pride and joy that came with watching his mother and father happy, and that in turn made him happy, despite the conflicting feelings he felt inside.

Of course, things became awkward when, as he should have expected, Livia arrived to the party. After all, it was only natural that she was invited there and that she would be seated next to him by the table as his "betrothed".

Dorian hadn't seen her for at least four years and she had changed as much as he had.  
He remembered her as a sweet, doll-like girl, with bronze skin, petite hands and long, black hair. Now the girl was gone, replaced with a woman with well-shaped breasts, an hourglass figure thanks to the tight, black corset around her waist, her hair longer and tied up into an elegant bun with strands of curled hair hanging freely from around it and prettily dolled up face. She was beautiful, wearing a midnight-blue dress with what Dorian suspected were enchanted gemstones at the cleavage, sleeves of her arms and the skirt itself, the dress itself cut in a very typical Tevinter style of bare shoulders and slim sleeves. Even Dorian could see that she was a sight, but he saw it in the same way he saw a beautiful horse. He could see their finer qualities, yes, but that didn't mean he wanted to fuck neither.  
He could also appreciate the sharp mind she had developed along with a rather quick tongue. It almost made him wish she had been born a different gender or that he could appreciate women, but only almost.

Because of this, Dorian had tried to talk to her, he really had.  
While he hardly wanted to marry her, he was still willing, wanting to make his father happy.  
Livia, however, didn’t seem as impressed with his grand return as the other guests seemed to be.  
In fact, she seemed to look straight through him.  
She remained civil, just like Dorian was and he could tell that she, too, was trying, but it soon became evident that they were a poor match.

Despite their similarities, he was quick to find out that they had absolutely nothing in common. She had no taste for fine literature or history, and while knowledgeable, she didn't wish to expand her intellect for it. She was far more interested in politics and the ways of the social court, something that Dorian in turn found extremely boring. She knew chess, but had very little interest in playing and while Dorian appreciated music, he found the harp a rather dull instrument. The lute was much more fun, he thought.  
Things only became more and more awkward between them, but they smiled politely and tried not to insult each other too much with cleverly hidden barbs and comments because, in truth, that was the only thing they had in common.  
They were both clearly very uninterested in one another and despite her hand resting on his arm, as his mother had so gently demanded he had to do, they sat as far away from one another as they could get away with.

After dinner it was expected of him to spend more time with her as they mingled, smiling politely at the guests as they inquired about Dorian’s future plans with in the Circle as well as asking when the wedding was being held or if they had plan for children soon.  
It was that part that almost sent Dorian into a panic as he realised the implications of that particular questions. It wasn’t as much an implication as it was a reality that was hanging dangerously over both their heads and it involved him, Livia and his bits inside her. It was enough to make him feel nauseas and if he hadn’t already been entertaining the thought that men were his preferred gender then he certainly was now.

If it was intentionally or not, Livia became his saving grace, smiling politely as she waved him off. “Not for some time still,” she had laughed, her voice light and warm.  
“Dorian must finish his studies first so he can provide for a family, no? He needs to become a man with a proper position, something I know he will get with ease. After all, we cannot depend on our parents for everything.”  
Dorian had only given a slightly awkward smile and a nod, but the statement had sent his mind spinning.

As soon as he could get away with it, Dorian headed away from the party, stepping outside onto the grand balcony for some fresh air.  
He pressed his hands against his face, rubbing hard as he tried to prevent over four years of hard work from coming undone as reality was not only staring him in the face, but smacking him rather hard across it too.  
Only two days had passed since he came home and he was already considering different ways of fleeing from this place…

“Just take a deep breath,” he whispered to himself, obeying his own commands.  
“This is just for one evening. The guests will leave before long and then you can focus completely on your studies and… And you can take it from there.”

“Planning on running away again so soon, Dorian? And here we have only just begun our courtship.”

Dorian whirled around as Livia spoke up behind him, watching as she smiled at him, closing the door behind her before coming closer, the dress sparkling as she moved.  
“But I suppose that is what I should expect, is it not? You running away from me. From everything.”

“Now that is a bit uncalled for,” Dorian replied, raising an eyebrow as Livia passed him, placing her hands on the balcony-railing as she stood next to him.  
“And thinking a bit highly of yourself, thinking that I have a need to run away from you.”

“Is it,” she asked as she gazed into the night, eyes cast up onto the sky above them, ignoring Dorian’s second statement.  
“Did you not run away from the Order then? Straight into the arms of male whores?”

Dorian felt his throat tighten from the comment. He wanted to deny it, but it was true. He had heard the rumours spread like wild-fire and while he knew Alexius had done what he could to dampen the rumours, Dorian had flirted with enough half-important Magisters during the time for it to have gotten out, one way or the other.

“You don’t have to say anything,” Livia said instead, denying Dorian any chance to say anything about it.  
“Your father worked hard to drown the rumours, but you hear things either way. Either way, I do not care.”

“How generous of you,” Dorian drawled as he crossed his arms over his chest, frowning a little.  
“So why bring it up?”

“Because I want to know where you stand,” Livia said as she finally turned around, her piercing eyes staring straight into Dorian’s, unwavering. Her face was cold, detached, almost unreadable.  
“And I want to know if you stand with me, or against me.”

“Are we going to war?”

“We are going to be married, but I suspect it will be the same thing. Blood will probably be shed either way,” Livia replied to Dorian’s quip, unimpressed by his comment.  
“I know you don’t like me, Dorian. I don’t like you either. In fact, I am trying to decide if I think you are an asshole or just pathetic.”

“Harsh words,” Dorian remarked as he walked closer to Livia, keeping his own gaze at her.  
“And your observations are based on...?”

“Your actions. Your attitude. You are playing by the game already, which should be a good thing, but I don’t know if you do it because you are good at it, like it or because you are afraid.”  
Livia tilted her head slightly, just looking at Dorian with a scrutinizing gaze.  
“You hold yourself as the noble you are, but at the same time, I can tell that everything that is said in there goes straight in one ear and out the other. You haven’t been part of a proper social court in years and while I know that you have been trained and educated, nobody has seen your face in a long time.”

“There is a little thing called education,” Dorian replied with a raised eyebrow. “You have mentioned it so I suspect you know what it is. And, as student of a great Magister, I was rather preoccupied, focusing on mentioned education. My mind deserved better than the mindless dribble of nobles who had had one too many glasses of wine.”  
Dorian paused and lifted his hand to study his nails, pretending to find them highly interesting as he waited for a response. When he didn’t get one, he continued.  
“Besides, it’s enough that I smile, nod and agree with whatever they say. I would hardly get anything of substance out of the lot of them if I tried striking up a proper conversation with them in this setting. When they are not fawning over me, my career or our upcoming marriage, all I can hear from them is “look at me, I am so awesome” or “did you hear that Magister whatever did yesterday? How appalling, shocking and scandalous”, et cetera.”

“And that is where you fail,” Livia replied somewhat harshly.   
“You have already brought scandal to your family once, I do not want to suffer the same humiliation as your mother and father did.”

The words had a surprising sting to them and Dorian had to swallow hard to get rid of the sudden taste of bile that appeared in his throat.  
“So you are to let the actions of an under-stimulated boy be the judge of the future?” he said instead, keeping his voice steady.  
“Yes, I was not the best son when younger, but I am here, no? I passed my tests, with rather high praises and recommendations from both Magister Alexius and the First Enchanter of the Circle in Minrathous. Surely that should speak for itself, no?”

“As long as you keep to it,” Livia replied while poking hard at Dorian’s arm.  
“Because if we are to do this, then I expect for you to do your part, Dorian Pavus. I don’t know how you are now, nor do I know your thoughts, but I can tell that you want this as little as I do. Which could be a plus for both of us, as long as we just do our duty.”

“You know, in other countries, marriage is viewed as a joyous occasion between two people who actually -do- want to marry,” Dorian replied with a slight smirk.  
“And not a duty that they are forced to partake in. Well… Unless you are a King or Queen, I suppose, but even they seem to have even a sliver of a choice in the matter.”

“Please, now you have the mind-set of a child. A marriage, this marriage, is nothing more than an agreement, an arrangement to ensure our future,” Livia replied with a wave of her hand.  
“We do not have to “like” each other for us to do our duty. If you want to have some courtesan on the side, that is absolutely fine with me as long as you don’t impregnate her. Though if the rumours are anything to go by, you would do just as well with a man so we don’t have that risk.”

Now that did stun Dorian, having not expected Livia to be so direct about it, so… impersonal and “matter-of-fact”, like they were talking business.  
He supposed he was naive about it, despite everything he knew about Tevinter traditions. It shouldn’t have come as a surprise, but for Livia to not even try and pretend...?   
Had his own mother and father been as detached from it as well? Treating it as a business deal to ensure their own future, throwing away a part of themselves in order to make it work?

“Just do your duty,” Livia repeated, as if she was talking to a disobedient child.  
“And we will not have any trouble. We can talk arrangements later, when the time draws nearer.”

“Livia-,” Dorian started, his own voice hard before his head snapped to the side at the sound of the door opening.  
He swallowed as he saw Halward come outside, looking around before smiling as his eyes landed on the two of them.

“Ah, there you are,” Halward said, closing the door behind him before approached them, hands gesturing towards them.  
“I will admit, Dorian, I was a little worried when I saw that you were gone, but I can now see that you two merely wanted to have a moment to get familiar with one another again. That is very good. It has been some time after all.”

The cold, almost detached look on Livia’s face was gone, replaced by a warm smile and almost cheerful demeanour. It was almost scary how quickly she was able to switch between what seemed to be two personalities and Dorian couldn’t help but wonder if this is what he would have been if he had been forced to remain home instead of being with Alexius.  
“Magister Pavus, I do beg your pardon for stealing your son away, but it is as you say. It has been four years since I have heard anything about him, even longer since we last saw one another so I had to see what kind of man he had become after so long.”

“Well, I do hope you like what you now see,” Halward chuckled, placing a hand on both their shoulders, giving them a squeeze.  
“You have both grown up to become rather lovely, in different ways. A handsome son, a beautiful daughter-to-be. It truly warms my heart that you have sought one another out like this.”

“Oh, I can hardly complain about his looks,” Livia chuckled, looking up at Dorian who could only stare back at her.  
“He has grown up to be rather handsome. I am almost jealous; I might have competition from other women wanting to win his heart. I would not be surprised if he would turn the heads of men and women alike.”

She grabbed his arm with both hers, giving it a squeeze as she gave Dorian a small grin.  
Dorian raised an eyebrow before letting his own lips tug into a grin of his own. He could tell what she was after and he would not let her have that pleasure. He wasn’t as good as her when it came to switching masks, but he knew a thing or two about teasing.  
“And you are as lovely yourself, my dear,” he said, his own voice silken. “But you are right, of course. I will get all the looks, as long as you are adorned on my arm.”

Both Halward and Livia chuckled, but Livia’s eyes flashed with brief anger from Dorian’s hidden insult, her hand squeezing his arm in warning that she had indeed caught on the double-meaning of his words.

“You flatter, Dorian,” she said instead before giving Halward a pleasant smile.  
“But you will have to excuse me. It would not do if people started gossiping about me and Dorian stealing off together before we are married.”

Dorian actually had to resist the urge to gag as the mere thought made him feel nauseas. Instead he just swallowed and gave Livia a strained smile.  
“Indeed. What would people think,” he replied as Livia squeezed his arm hard, her nails digging into his biceps through his robes for a second before she let go.

“I will see you later, Dorian,” Livia murmured as a final goodbye, giving them both a small wave before she vanished back inside, leaving Dorian alone with his father.  
For a moment, Dorian almost wanted her to come back so he wouldn’t have to be alone with the man.

“She has grown into quite the lovely woman, wouldn’t you say?”

Dorian raised an eyebrow at his father’s comment, slowly turning his head before he offered him a small, weak smile. “She has,” he agreed, but squashed the urge add “too bad she is not as lovely on the inside” to his answer.

“As expected, of course. Both her mother and father make a very lovely couple, her mother easily as striking as your own mother,” Halward mused.  
“I would have expected nothing less when it came to Livia herself.”

Dorian merely let out a hum of acknowledgement, not really sure what to say about it. Listening to his father, describing his betrothed as if she was a prised horse… It was odd and it made him feel funny.   
They had not even been born when the engagement had been arranged, it had been an arrangement between the families should they happen to get a child each of suitable gender. Had they just hoped that they would come out fine or had they been confident that both Dorian and Livia would come out just about perfect Dorian wondered, crossing his arms over his chest as he thought about it.

“I am so proud of you, Dorian. I want you to know that.”

Halward’s words snapped Dorian out of his thoughts as quickly as a bucket of ice water over his head and when he looked at his father, he found him smiling, eyes shining with pride as he watched his son.  
“I… Thank you, father,” he said in a low voice after a few seconds of hesitation, unable to hold his father’s eyes. “It means a lot to me to hear you say that.”

“I understand now that what I and your mother did… The result of it, it was partly our fault. We put too much weight on you too fast, but we did it with the best if intensions,” Halward continued.  
“We only wanted to ensure your future, to make sure it was good. The best we could give you. It was too much for a young child and we forgot that. What you were just a child, but I know that now. And for that I apologize.”

Dorian didn’t answer, merely listened to his father has he spoke, nodding his head from time to time to show that he was listening.  
It was comforting, to hear his father say it, but at the same time, it felt hollow. Like it was too little, too late and there was something in the way Halward said it that didn’t make sense to him. 

“But I can see now, Dorian, that you are a grown man now. You have matured. We now know that you are ready to continue on your path towards greatness. Because you can be whatever you want, Dorian. A Magister, even Archon. You are gifted, talented. You have the makings of greatness, my son.”

Dorian swallowed hard as he turned his head to look at his father. “Father, I…” he started, but the look of pride on Halward’s face, the warm smile and fond look… 

“Yes, Dorian?”

Dorian hesitated. He didn’t want to lose that, not again. He didn’t want to see that disappointed look on his father’s face, not again. Not ever again. Even now, over ten years since the first accident with the first Circle he had attended, he could remember his father’s words. 

_‘You have disappointed us, Dorian. We believed that you were better than that.’_

So instead Dorian smiled, an empty, hollow smile, but a smile none the less. “… Of course, Father.”

Because he wanted to do anything to make him happy.

Anything still.


	15. Lessons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Dorian tries to play by Tevinter standards.

It did not take long for Dorian to find his place within the Circle of Minrathous, finding that he was not only enjoying life at the Circle, but looking forward to the different lessons and some of the social events.  
As a Harrowed mage with the title of Enchanter, Dorian had been allowed to select what he wished to study closer along with the obligatory lessons of the circle, which was fine with him.  
Magic was, naturally, an important part of the studies, and it was natural for the students to select a branch of magic to further expand on. Dorian was quick to see that the other students were torn pretty much down the middle when it came to it. Many chose to further enhance and develop the more common magic’s, the most popular ones being fire because of the destructive nature of the magic. Others started specialising in other, more obscure magic’s and it was fascinating to read about the many choices there was.

Dorian himself had still not decided what he wanted to do yet and was content to further enhance the magic he already had, looking to perfect it and further made use of it, always expanding and reaching towards and even beyond its natural state thanks to creative thinking and clever use of manipulation of the fade.  
That is what Dorian truly found fascinating about his own magic and abilities; to see exactly what he could and couldn’t do.  
Because of this, he quickly gained a good reputation with his tutors for his many successful experimentations with magic, which in turn made Dorian swell with satisfaction and pride.

Along with his studies, Dorian was able to, for the first time in his life, enjoy a place that was his and his alone.   
Because of his status, both in society and within the Circle itself, proper accommodations were prepared for him to stay in.  
It was no mansion, just a private condominium the Circle’s student-area, but it was more than enough for him. He had a grand bedroom with a very soft bed and a large dresser along with a proper and private marble-tub, decorated with gold-leafs and carved out runes for easy heating of the water. He also had a basin, a vanity and chair along with a large mirror so he could tend to his appearance, all which were appreciated.  
In addition to all his grooming needs, Dorian also had his own small, private privy, which was separated from the rest of his room with a solid wooden door, placed in a room of its own. While Dorian was no stranger to the good old chamber pot, having a proper place to do his “business” was a luxury in itself, especially since he didn’t need to worry about servants coming in to empty the damn thing before it started smelling way too bad. He could only imagine what an entire hallway of chamber pots would end up smelling like, especially since the students did not have servants or slaves of their own, unless they had a specific need that had to be tended to. The slaves and servants in the circle merely dropped by now and then to clean their rooms and change their beddings upon notice. Other than that, the students’ condominiums were their own responsibilities.  
The second main room was just as large as his bedroom, and it functioned more as a study-room than anything else, which Dorian liked. It had a large desk made out of dark wood, elegantly carved and decorated in a very typical Tevinter design. He had several bookcases with books, grand windows that had view of the Circle’s gardens and the harbour in the distance, and by the window was a soft-looking chair and table where he could sit and read.  
In addition to the furniture that was there, Dorian was allowed to decorate the place as he wanted, which he almost immediately started doing. Nothing much as he rather liked the place as it was, but he did add new curtains to the windows, drapes between the door-opening separating the two rooms and some new, plush carpets on the floors.

He was able to do thinks thanks to also being granted a stipend from the Circle itself to help in his research; it wasn’t much, but Dorian found he didn’t need much more. The Circle already fed him and provided him with acceptable clothing and whatever else he needed, the stipend was able to pay for.

Of course, he still felt the pressure on his shoulders in relation to his family and, most importantly, his betrothed, but for now he was free to pursuit his own interests.

Dorian had to admit, if someone had asked him four years ago that he would be happy to sit and study as well as partake in the political discussions at the circle, he would have laughed and called them mad.  
Instead, he had come to grow into his role and while he still had little to no interest to actually become a Magister, let alone Archon, he did enjoy partaking in events and in the debates. It was fun, going head to toe in a battle of wits, a battle that, to Dorian’s enjoyment, he won more often than not.

As he settled more into the Circle, he started splitting his time between his work there and visiting Alexius back in his mansion. He still considered the place a second home, and Alexuis and Livia always wished him welcome with open arms. He would spend a couple of days there, talking with his mentor, airing ideas and theories as well as aiding Alexius with his own research.  
The man continued to show his brilliance in many ways, showing an amazing progress in his research of the limits of magical laws. In fact, Alexius had set his sights on researching how to travel through and control both time and physical space. It was ambitious, but Dorian took so much grand inspiration from his work and mind that it helped in his own work.

“Just imagine it, Dorian,” Alexius had told him one evening as they had enjoyed a glass with brandy each, seated in a comfy chair by the fireplace.  
“If one can actually use magic to bend or even travel through time, imagine what it can do for people? Imagine spirit-magic being able to properly mend and heal wounds, even sickness? Magic that can restore buildings to their old grandeur?”

“Inspiring, but also dangerous, should it fall into the wrong hands,” Dorian had warned. “With the way some of the students at the circle are talking, I can only imagine what they would do if they had access to such power.”

“There will always be those who will abuse it,” Alexius had mused, taking a drink from his brandy.  
“Just look at the world as it is. Every time something new is invented, someone will take it and abuse it. The first man to make a sword probably though “now this will make it easier for me to defend my families from wolfs or bears”, but then some genius thought that “this makes it really easy to kill that man and steal his belongings”. When fire was first discovered in magic, it might have already have existed as a mean to make men feel warm until someone discovered how much destruction it can cause. Sadly, there will always be men that only want to watch the world burn. Often literally. Sadly, one can only be responsible for one’s own actions. If one stops creating, progress will stop and we will never grow further.”

“So, what are saying, one should be allowed to create whatever one desire, as long as one’s heart is in the right place?” Dorian had asked, raising an eyebrow.

“In a matter of speaking. Progress should be made for the advantages of everyone, not just a handful of chosen ones. In the end, we will all be caught up to our own sins and on the day we die, we will get our just reward.”

Dorian had taken those words to heart and as he kept working on his own projects as well as aiding Alexius with his, he would try to remind himself of that.

It would take a few more years before he would truly understand the meaning behind the words though.

As time passed, Dorian was part of the bigger social crowds within the circle and while he didn’t have many he considered friends, he had a few handful of people that he enjoyed spending time with, being studying, a game of chess or cards or just to go out and drink with.

He would also find out that he had not learned his lesson when it happened the first time.

Playing the part of a diligent student and well-heeled son, Dorian threw himself into his studies, trying his best to continue his streak of making his parents proud.  
For the first few months, everything was fine; he was doing good work, he was a perfect social butterfly and he acted the part meant for someone of his social status.  
While he had always found it easy to be both witty and charming, he learned to use it better, both as a mask to hide his frustrations and to talk people completely around.

He also severely underestimated just how shrewd and cruel his own classmates could be.

Dorian didn’t think himself as easy, but when an older student came to him, complimenting him for his brilliancy and, in a more discreet fashion, his looks, Dorian found himself charmed.  
The student himself was rather handsome as well, with bright blue eyes, his tanned complexion complimented by light-brown hair and a smile that could disarm anyone. The student, who’s name Dorian found out to be Thadeous, was a skilled student and talented with ice-magic, something Dorian would find out first-hand.

He hadn’t just fallen into Thadeous’ bed of course; Dorian prided himself in being a little harder to get than that, but he also found it very hard to resist.  
While he was more comfortable being the way he was, most of it thanks to Felix’ constant encouragement, it was still hard to do something about it. Yes, he was attracted to men, but he was still a man, he was still human and he had needs. He still craved contact, he craved attention and he craved the feeling of a body against his own. There was only so much he could do with his own hands in order to get what he needed.  
He knew that what he wanted, he couldn’t have, but maybe, just maybe… Maybe if he could find someone who felt as he did, they could have something, even if they had to hide it.

Thadeous was not that someone.

It took the man almost a month, with Dorian being reluctant to do much outside of hidden kisses and brief kisses, covered and hidden by closed door and private corners, but eventually Dorian gave in to his own desires.  
The night was long, filled with heated kisses, eager touches as well as a demonstration of mentioned ice-magic, and when Dorian came, he swore he saw stars.  
However, when morning came, Thadeous was gone and Dorian knew that he had messed up. He knew, and had possibly always known, that Thadeous was just after a release and now that he had gotten it, Dorian would be surprised if he would ever see him again.  
What infuriated him though was when he found out that Thadeous had stolen a couple of his own theories, but it was easy to claim ownership over that once he faced him again. Thadeous might have stolen the theories, but he had no idea about the thoughts that went behind it.  
When he saw Thadeous told off for his theft, Dorian couldn’t help but feel a small spark of joy in seeing the older man squirm, knowing that he had just earned a severe blow to his reputation.  
The best part was that he had nothing on Dorian because if Thadeous outed him, Dorian could out him in the same breath. And since Thadeous had already been caught in one lie, Dorian was more likely to be believed.

Still, it was a second evening that would mark the change in Dorian’s mind-set, a change that would slowly take over his mind and his heart.  
In fact, one drunken night was all it took for Dorian to truly understand just how much was bubbling under the surface of Tevinter society.

He wasn’t sure who had slipped it out first, himself or the young man he was speaking to, but the light, slurred conversation by the bar as soon turned into lewder comments, heated look and touches disguised as friendly pats on the back. The man was handsome, charming and when they had returned to Dorian’s quarters, he had learned that he was also wonderfully rough, large and very thorough, but only when it came to himself. In the moment, Dorian hadn’t care because he found the wonderful sweet release in a nice orgasm as well as getting to enjoy the feeling of a nice, warm body against his own.  
Once morning came and Dorian had taken a moment to sober up, soaking in a nice, warm bath, he realised that this was it.   
This was all he would ever get.

His first relationship, if it could even be called that, had been nothing but a lie. A release, a few nights of hidden pleasure, only to be dumped as soon as he was no longer convenient.  
His second was no more than an illusion that had lasted far longer than was needed and that dissolved as soon as they had done the deed.  
And the third… The third had been a distraction. Nothing more would come of it.

It was the third in what would be many harsher lessons, but Dorian was nothing if not an eager student.  
He would learn how to better get what he wanted, how he wanted it without risking being caught or hurt.  
Tevinter, for all its sophistication was a dog-eat-dog country. Everyone was only after helping themselves and while you could work with them in good camaraderie, you always had to watch out for a dagger in the back. There were good people out there and Dorian tried to be one of them, but it was hard finding them amongst all the shit. They had to hide or they would be eaten alive.

In a way, that realisation was more painful than the realisation that he could never have a normal relationship.  
Either way, it spelled out that he would live a life that was guarded, hidden, secret, always watching over his back for people who could possibly cause him harm, one way or the other.

He voiced some of his thoughts to Alexius the next time he saw him, some weeks later, who merely chuckled and smiled.  
“Dorian, you are sometimes too smart for your own good,” he had said fondly, patting Dorian on the back as they walked to Alexius’ study.  
“You are already realising the things that most people spend their entire lives figuring out. Young men and women know that they have to look out for themselves first from a young age, but they never learn the true value of true friends. They are unable to trust and they are fine with it.”

“It makes me wonder just how in the Maker’s name we have managed to survive as a nation for so long,” Dorian had grumbled, shaking his head some as he watched Alexius pour them both a drink.  
“When it feels like we are on the brink of killing one another.”

“Because it is all the more fun to set people up against one another rather than doing our own dirty-work,” Alexius had said, offering Dorian one of the crystal-glasses, smirking ever so slightly.

“How do you do it,” Dorian asked, inhaling deeply through his nose as he took a sip from his brandy. “How do you go there, surrounded by these-“ he started, snapping his fingers a couple of times as he started pacing, summoning small short-lived sparks before continuing. “Vipers. That place is a nest of vipers.”

Alexius chuckled softly, smiling as he watched Dorian slowly pace through his study. “Dorian, Dorian… You are young, you have ambitions and you are right to have them. You are talented, good, you can go far.”

“You are not answering my question,” Dorian said while raising an eyebrow, stopping his pacing for a moment so he could look at Alexius.

“Because I do not have an answer for you. My strength comes from my family, from my believes. I want to lay a foundation that men and women like you can use to grow a new, better Tevinter. That is how I face those who wish to see me and my work burn. That is how any Magister or noble manages to face the day.”  
He walked over to Dorian, grasping his shoulder with his free hand before squeezing it gently.  
“You got to find your own strengths, Dorian. Your own dreams, your own believes.”

Dorian chuckled softly, shaking his head some. “You make it sound so easy, Master,” he murmured. 

“You are young,” Alexius repeated. “And while it is good that you are thinking ahead, you have time to settle, to find who you are as well as your voice.”

“Are you implying that I have not yet found myself, Master,” Dorian mused, smirking a little at Alexius, but he knew he was right.  
While he was older, more confident, more secure and comfortable in his role, he still didn’t know who he was, only who he was supposed to be. He was no closer in finding his answer than he was four years ago, when Alexius found him drunk in the brothel.

“I am implying that you have time to find out,” Alexius said while holding his drink up in a silent toast. “And that, Dorian, is the most important thing I can ever teach you.”

“Pardon?”

Alexius smiled as he released Dorian’s shoulder, nodding his head a little towards a grand painting that was hanging over his fireplace, showing off a younger-looking Gereon and Livia. “Look at that painting, Dorian. Tell me what you see.”

“I see a man who’s a lot more handsome than you,” Dorian said with a cheeky little grin, earning a hearty laugh.

“Well, I cannot deny that. But there’s more than that.”

“Do share.”

“Right there,” Alexius continued as he nipped at his drink, looking up at the painting. “-is two of very few people whose opinion matter to me. Me and Livia. And that is what you must remember. You can spend your entire life trying to make others proud, to gain their approval, but there will always, always be someone who is not. There will always be someone who will always disapprove, who will be disappointed.”  
He turned to look at Dorian, nodding his head towards him. “Instead you should focus first and foremost on one person, Dorian. And that is you. You should make yourself proud, you should approve of your actions. You need to look at what you are doing, thinking, acting, and say ‘Yes. I can stand by this and I am proud of it. I believe in this.’ Because that is all that matters. Because if you hate and do not believe in what you are doing, then what does it matter if others do or don’t?”

“Because the allure of another person’s approval is always a nice feeling,” Dorian suggested with a small smirk, but it still stirred something inside of him. A small, painful throb deep inside him because he knew it was true.

“Then you just have to make sure that the person whose approval you are seeking is worthy of it,” Alexius merely said.  
“And before you say anything, I know that that is not easy. But it will be worth the search. Believe you me. When you find that person who will be completely honest with you, support you in your dream and give you a proper hit over the head when you are stupid… That is worth everything.”

Dorian smiled some before looking up at the painting of Livia and Gereon, taking in their faces, their position. He compared it to the memories he had while he lived in their household as well as the memories of his own parents.  
“Well… Good thing I am young then,” he finally said instead, looking at Alexius with a smirk, but on the inside, he was hurting.

Because while he had people whose opinion mattered to him… He could never have what Alexius had with his wife.  
And the mere thought of that hurt more than anything.


	16. Moving Forward

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Dorian is slowly, but steadily finding his place.

It was the year 9:33 Dragon and time, Dorian discovered, passed differently while in the Circle.

The Blight in Ferelden had ended two years ago, the Archdemon defeated, a new king was elected, Logain the betrayer had been executed and the Hero of Ferelden took over as Fereldens new Warden Commander.  
Then there was the situation in Amaranthine, where rumours of an intelligent Darkspawn had been discovered, but since there was no evidence outside of the word of the Hero of Ferelden, Tevinter did not care.   
In fact, Tevinter ignored everything as if it was simple, unimportant news.

No, the news that ran through the Imperium were more “important” to the Magisters.  
The ongoing battle with the Qunari, the ever-growing slave-trade and, according to rumours, a Magister Danarius being vivid because he had lost one of his most prized slaves. The noise he made about it completely overshadowed the stories about the Blight because, as Danarius claimed, he had just lost the most important magical discovery since the discovery of hedge magic.

At least that was what the rumours said.

Dorian had never actually seen or spoke to Danarius himself, but Alexius had had a rather intense discussion with his wife about the “unethical treatment” Danarius had with his slaves, and something about inserting Lyrium under the skin of one of them. As far as Dorian remembered, Magister Danarius had showed off his slave at a party, boasting about the power the slave had and how obedient he was, something that had disgusted Alexius to no-end.  
Dorian had been wrapped up in the affairs with Cassian at the time so he hadn’t paid much attention, but the memories came back when he heard about Danarius losing his prized slave in the jungles of Seheron. He couldn’t say he felt sorry for him, especially of the rumours about him were true.

As it was, Dorian himself was guilty of not paying much mind to the situations that were going on even now, but it was not because of lack of interest. It was the lack of time in-between his studies.  
Unsurprisingly, juggling his own private affairs together with his work and his family was hard, but Dorian was nothing if not a fast learner. He had expected as much thanks to Alexius and his training, but nothing would ever compare to actually doing it.  
Still, he worked hard, he was focused and it was getting results.

Now two years had passed since he had first entered the Circle in Minratheous and Dorian was carving a rather unorthodox name for himself.  
He was known for his talent, his smarts and his magic, but he was also known for being “different”. Rumours were flying, but they were not in relation to his private affairs. In fact, it was his way of thinking that had people talking.  
Despite his young age of merely twenty-two years, Dorian was showing a maturity in his way of thinking that surpassed those of his peers. He was active in debates and discussions at school, and his arguments were always well thought-out and logical, even if he made a habit of making it sound like he was bored or what he said was the most obvious thing in the world. It didn’t make him popular, but it did make him somewhat respected.

That didn’t mean he was still a young man with an impulse-control that was flying in all directions at times.

After he’s rather failed attempts at something that could resemble a relationship, Dorian had settled for the occasional affair with other male students or people he met when he ventured outside of the circle.   
At the start, he was even fine with it. Sure, some time could pass between each adventure, but when he was on the path, it was exciting. The nights were passionate, rough, with Dorian sucking up all the pleasure he could. While he still gave as much as he took, he had learned that he had to be selfish when it came to sex. If he wanted pleasure, he had to ensure that he got it himself because, in the end, both parties would be selfish for the same reasons.  
It was risky of course; if he was not careful and covered his affairs properly, his reputation would quickly plummet, but there was nothing if not some poetic justice in what he was doing. After all, nobody wanted to admit that they were fucking another man, not even to get an edge on the other.

Of course, some of the students that disliked him tried to get him off guard by attempting to put him in awkward situations.

Like the situation that could have ended in a complete disaster when one of his fellow students, a rather well-endowed young woman by the name of Carmilla started making more aggressive passes at him, and doing it rather obviously so.  
Not that Dorian was surprised; he was aware of his good looks, but he was also aware that Carmilla was a shameless sort of woman, flirting with anyone who she believed she could get something of value from, be it status, possessions or information. She knew she was attractive, with her long, black and wavy hair, sweet face and an hour-glass figure that would make the most holy of men turn their heads with desire in their eyes, and she knew she could get what she wanted by using her physical assets to her advantage.  
And Dorian was a man who was quickly rising in rank and respect, and it wasn’t exactly a secret that his father was still ambitious about his son’s future.

She had been flirting with Dorian for some time now, subtly first, but he had ignored her, not willing to even entertain the notion of pretending to be interested for a quick laugh, but that only served to make her more persistent. Evidently, she was not used to being denied and Dorian’s complete lack of interest apparently sparked something in her.

It had been the evening of a rather dull ball when Carmilla had managed to corner Dorian when he stepped out for air. She had approached him, placed her hands on his chest and as she pushed him against the railings of the balcony they were on, she also leaned in to kiss him, whispering sweet, honeyed words that made Dorian want to gag as her lips aimed for his slowly. When he deflected by leaning his head back, she had taken his hands and placed them square on her chest, squeezing her own hands over his so he would get a good handful.

“Am I not woman enough for you? Or is it rumours of you fucking men true?”

Dorian had merely raised an eyebrow before removing his hands from her chest.   
“Trust me, Carmilla,” he had said, hoping his face was as neutral as his voice. “You are very much a woman. However, unlike my fellow male students, I do not let my cock decide for me and I have no interest in becoming another one of your playthings. And before you start defending yourself, I am fully aware of the amount of people you have slept with as I have caught you with your tongue down many a man’s throat. Mine, however, is not one you will have the pleasure of sampling.”  
With that, he had left her standing outside, her face burning with shame, unknowing to the spark of anger and humiliation that he had now lit inside her.

That is when the rumours of his preferences truly started and with it, more awkward situations.

Like the elfen prostitute that ended up in his room after Dorian had spent a rather long night of drinking.

If Dorian had been insecure about his attractions before, the sight of the naked woman on his bed, spread before him was enough to make him very secure that -this- was not what he wanted.   
He was surprised that he had been able to be as calm about it as he had, but he suspected that the alcohol helped in that.  
It was still awkward, trying to make the young woman dress without insulting her, but there was also something in her eyes that made Dorian all the more concerned for her well-being over his own.

As it turned out, she had been prepaid for and if she came out too soon, they would think she was a poor lover or that she was a liar, which in turn would result in them taking the money back and if that happened… She didn’t have to elaborate, Dorian understood perfectly well what would happen. 

At best, she would be sent to a new “assignment”.   
At worse, she would be beaten, possibly fatally so.

Instead, Dorian taught her chess and together they enjoyed a couple of rounds while Dorian made small-talk, complimenting her on how quick she picked up on the game and how lovely her hair.  
She left sometime in the early morning, but not before giving him a kiss on the cheek and thanking him for a lovely night. The look of gratitude and happiness in her eyes was more than enough to make Dorian feel pleased with the result; at least he had bought her freedom from her occupation for one evening.  
That and being able to flash his peers a shit-eating grin made everything worth it for himself as he had no doubt that her exit had been watched closely.

The rumours only escalated from there, but Dorian did his best in ignoring them. He knew that responding to them or getting defensive would only add fuel to the fire, but it also meant that flirting with his fellow students could cost him dearly.  
He started seeking his entertainment elsewhere, letting his eyes land on the laetans or even the soporati. It wasn’t because he thought he was so much better than them, but he knew there was a risk that came with the game he suddenly found himself playing. If he was caught fucking someone from a lower class than himself, they could both risk rather harsh punishment, but at the same time, the rewards were so much better.  
In time he found that he preferred the men belonging to the soporati class, especially the men that worked with physical labour. Rugged, big, with muscles that could break stone. He had slept with many men who had taken great care in their physique, but it was completely different to see a man who actually knew how to use his body. He found himself easily submitting himself to those men, loving the feel of their stubble on his skin, on strong hands gripping on his body and the rough kisses places both on his lips and his body. They gave as much as they received and if they minded Dorian’s rather selfish chase of his own passion, they never complained. They gave and Dorian took because that’s what he was used to.  
When they were done, it was Dorian who snuck away from their bed, quickly returning to his own room under the cloak of darkness, never to see them again. No names were exchanged, no indication of who they were.  
They got what they wanted and Dorian was contend with that. For now.

Then there were the letters that came from his family.  
It didn’t happen often, but every now and then he would get a letter subtly reminding him of his duties back home, that he had a fiancée waiting, but Dorian was able to pacify them as well. A quick word to let them know that he wanted to focus on his studies, to reach the title of Senior Enchanter without the worry of other things, was enough to satisfy his father. He wondered sometimes why his father kept asking him to come home and marry when he knew that Dorian wanted to wait, but he had a feeling that it was a test. A test to see if Dorian was working towards the goal or of he was stalling. He knew his father kept close tabs on his merits and accomplishments, but he found that he didn’t mind so much. Especially not when his father praised him, both in his letters and in public. It made him feel good and in return it motivated him to work harder.

All in all, it was a good life. A decent life.   
Dorian found he did not mind the life at all if not for the threat of marriage hanging over his head, but that… He would deal with that as it came.  
Other than that, he found that he was settling and with the realisation of what he could do came the dreams. The dreams of a better Tevinter, of a reformed Tevinter.  
A Tevinter that would be open, that could open their arms and borders towards the rest of Thedas. Of a Tevinter that would share their culture, their knowledge with the rest of the South.

It saddened him to know that he knew precious few people that felt the same way as he did. There was Livia, Gereon and Felix of course, but they were merely three people.

For now, the dreams of a better Tevinter seemed to be just that.

A dream.


	17. Know Thy Enemy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Dorian meets an old "friend".

If it was one person that Dorian had never thought he would see again, it was Cassian.  
And Dorian hated the fact that his heart and stomach flipped at the sight of him, especially since Cassian had filled out quite nicely since the last time he saw him.

Dorian honestly did not know if he felt nauseas or not.

He supposed he should have expected it; when the Circles of Tevinter summoned the best and brightest of its students for a Lower Floor debate, then it was only fitting that the one person Dorian never wanted to see again would be there.   
Yes, Cassian had been a good student while with Gereon and Livia, and it was no wonder that he would get far when under the wing of Livia.  
Still, to actually meet him again, not being aware that he was one of the mages representing the Circle of Vyrantium, was like being punched in the gut. All the air seemed to leave his body and all he could do was stare as Cassian came into the room, wearing the robes belonging to his Circle.

Thankfully, he had not ended up staring with his mouth open and an obvious look of surprise on his face. He had ended up more stone-face, his stance rigid and his face more or less neutral. It had probably been his only saving grace as the hall was filling up with more students, snapping him out of his stupor long enough to regain his focus.  
He also knew he was unnecessarily crass and downright icy when addressing him during the debates, adding more heat to his words when deflecting or arguing on the circles latest debates: the development and further expansion of new magic.

Dorian was for it, but only to a certain degree and for the most part he spoke of expanding magic they already knew. There was potential in it and he had already written several papers on the possibilities of combining known and combinable schools of magic into something new.  
He had already presented several ways in which it had already been done, especially when it came to spirit magic and the more primal schools of magic.

Cassian seemed amused by his attitude though and Dorian was quick to realize that he was being baited by the slightly older man. Despite knowing it, he just couldn’t help himself. He let himself be swept away, taking the bait hook, line and sinker, but with a determination to win. Yes, Cassian seemed to know how to push his buttons even now, but Dorian was smarter and more experienced now.  
He was no eighteen-year-old blushing virgin and hadn’t been for some time.  
He also knew that Cassian wasn’t after winning the debate; he wanted to rile Dorian up as much as he could by making downright ridiculous claims that really added nothing to the discussion, but sounded smart enough for him to get away with it.

Dorian wouldn’t give him that satisfaction.

While the discussion was won easily, something about Cassian’s downright nonchalant attitude to it made it feel like Dorian had lost so when the group broke it off for the evening, he immediately sought out a proper glass of wine and fresh air.  
The gathering was over for the evening anyway and people were splitting up, either retreating for the evening or do find more pleasant ways to end it.

As for Dorian… He had no immediate plans to go anywhere.  
For now, all he wanted was to clear his mind and possibly drink the thoughts of Cassian out of his head.

The discussion did not have any shortage of alcohol for the young students and Dorian was only too happy to help himself to some of the stronger stuff, filling up his glass to the brim before stalking outside.  
The evening was already starting to cool off, with the sun setting behind the mountains in the distance, and the cool air was already doing wonders for the headache that had formed in Dorian’s head during the discussion. It was also nice and quiet outside, a welcoming break from the buzzing that was still going on inside from the students who had not immediately fled to the nearest open Tavern.  
He was of half-mind to join them again, in a little bit, when the last person he wanted to see made himself noticed.

“Well, well. Look at you, Dorian. Time has treated you extremely well.”

Holding onto his glass tightly, Dorian inhaled sharply as he closed his eyes, counting slowly to five before taking a large gulp from his drink.  
“Of course it has,” he replied with an icy voice, not even bothering to turn. “I am like fine wine. I only get better with age.”

“I bet,” Cassian mused as he stepped up to Dorian, as if he was an old friend that he hadn’t seen in a while.  
“I have to admit though, I did not expect to see you here.”

“And why is that?”  
He already knew he was going into another trap, but Dorian couldn’t find himself to care.

“You don’t have the most… Pristine of reputations when it comes to your academic pursuits,” Cassian replied casually, a hint of a smirk on the man’s lips.

This man, this… Person, was not the person Dorian had fallen so hard for almost five years ago, and yet Dorian could believe this man more than he believed in the man Cassian had pretended to be.  
This was Cassian’s true colors.

“Maybe not,” Dorian replied slowly as he took another deep gulp from his drink, feeling it burn as it went down his throat.  
“But a man can change. Of course, you wouldn’t know of that, would you?”

Cassian merely laughed and smirked, something that made Dorian even angrier.  
“Oh, Dorian. I see you have not gotten over me yet,” he murmured, smirking as he reached out and attempted to touch Dorian’s arm.  
Dorian quickly twisted away, looking at the hand as if it was a snake ready to bite him.  
“It was five years ago, Dorian. Most people would have gotten over it by now. Though I am flattered that I had such an impact on you,” Cassian chuckled, smirking.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” Dorian spat, eyes narrowing.  
“The only thing I haven’t gotten over is my anger and disgust because I fell for your lies.”

“Oh, but dear Dorian,” Cassian chuckled, leaning against the railing of the balcony.  
“I never lied to you. I meant it when I said that you were beautiful and that I liked you. I especially meant it every time when I said I had to have you. However, I never promised you more either.”

Dorian opened his mouth to call him out, but after a moment, he quickly shut his mouth.  
Cassian… wasn’t wrong.  
He had said many things, many sweet things, but he had actually never promised Dorian more.

Dorian had been the one to believe there was something there, lead on by Cassian’s actions, but Cassian had never actually confirmed it.

He swallowed hard as he glared at Cassian, knowing he was right and not being able to do a single damn thing about it.  
“You know what I mean,” he ended up hissing as he drained the last of the liquor from his glass, ignoring the burn as it went down his throat.  
“I was young, I was inexperienced and you took advantages of that. You used me and you know you did.”

“Now, now, use is such a harsh word,” Cassian murmured, sliding closer towards Dorian, letting their arms brush together.  
“Did you now enjoy the time we spent together? Did I not make you feel good? Make you feel… Special?”

“T-that is beside the point,” Dorian bit out as he shifted away from Cassian, but he was running out of place. Cassian was rather efficiently backing him into a corner; namely the corner of the balcony.  
“If you had just come out and said that- “

“Said what, Dorian,” Cassian interrupted, still wearing that Maker forsaken grin on his face.  
“That I was just after some fun? That I just wanted to fuck you? Would it have been any better for you if I said that?”  
When Dorian froze, Cassian smirked and moved closer, placing both hands on either side of Dorian as he trapped him in the corner. “You know you wouldn’t have responded any better to knowing the truth. So I gave you what you wanted for as long as it was needed. You should thank me, Dorian. I taught you a valuable lesson.”

Dorian’s hand flew up and connected with Cassian’s cheek before he could stop himself, making the older man’s head snap to one side from the force.  
“Release me or the next blow I will make will be to your balls,” he sneered, but he couldn’t help but feel a mix of excitement along with the discomfort.  
The fact that Cassian chuckled, slowly turning his head as he rubbed his now red cheek didn’t make things any better.

“You’ve grown feistier now, Dorian. I like that.”

“Keep pushing your luck and you won’t like it much longer,” Dorian snapped as he tried to push Cassian away from him, but not very hard.  
His heart was pounding hard in his chest and he could feel himself responding to the strength and confidence Cassian was showing.  
If he wasn’t careful…

Cassian chuckled and Maker if that chuckle didn’t bring back memories of heated nights many years ago.  
“Don’t resist, Dorian,” he murmured as he leaned closer, letting his lips ghost over the shell of Dorian’s ear.  
“How about one night, for old time’s sakes?”

“You’re a bastard,” Dorian growled, reaching up to grasp at Cassian’s shoulders, giving him a half-hearted push.  
“I should set your hair on fire for this.”

“Let’s just set the night on fire, you and I,” Cassian purred before leaning in to kiss Dorian firmly.

Dorian couldn’t stop himself; he had to kiss Cassian back, just for a second before he turned his head away, hating himself the moment he gave in.  
“Don’t think that I will forgive you for this,” he growled, eyes flickering to glance at Cassian before he made up his mind.

“I am not expecting you to,” Cassian mused, smirking some. “Because there is nothing to forgive. What I am doing… I am doing it because we both want it. You want this as much as I do. Couldn’t you feel it, Dorian? The tension between us? The longing? The want? The spark is still there; we just have to give it life again.”

Dorian sucked in a deep breath of air, eyes narrowing as he contemplated the situation.  
Cassian was many things, but he was no rapist. His style was to lure, to seduce, to tease, but he wouldn’t take him by force, at least not here. There were still people inside and Dorian only had to shout if he needed help.  
That and if Dorian truly wanted him to stop, he could make him stop. He was physically strong, he could easily break free and even if he was overpowered, his magic was strong.  
He would have no problem with stopping Cassian, if that is what he wanted.  
But Dorian wasn’t sure if he wanted for Cassian to stop. 

In fact, Cassian was right. Dorian did want something from him.  
Cassian had taken something from him five years ago, something Dorian realized he rather desperately wanted back.

It was time to collect.

With a quick movement, Dorian shifted his hands from Cassian’s chest to his neck, pulling Cassian in close for a hard, deep kiss.  
“Don’t think you’ve won,” he growled against Cassian’s lips. “I still despise you.”

“I can live with that,” Cassian merely grinned back as he kissed Dorian back, wrapping his arms tightly around Dorian’s body and holding him close.

Dorian didn’t answer. He merely kissed Cassian hard, brutally, letting his fingernails dig into the bare skin of Cassian’s throat.  
He wasn’t going to let Cassian be the one taking this time. This time, Dorian would take just as much and he would show that he was not the same kid he had been.

Maybe it was a poor excuse, maybe it wasn’t an excuse at all, Dorian honestly didn’t care either way. He wasn’t going to make excuses about this.  
It had nothing to do with feelings, with love. It was lust; pure lust and anger mixed together, leaving Dorian feel both empowered and lightheaded at once.   
In his own way, he had Cassian exactly where he wanted him.

He wouldn’t let Cassian win.  
Not this time.

***

“I’d say, Dorian,” Cassian murmured, grinning some as he stretched out on his bed, giving Dorian a lazy look.  
“You’ve become very good. Not that you were bad before, but practice certainly has made perfect.”

Dorian didn’t answer. Instead he focused on redressing himself, ignoring the dull throb in his lower region.  
His clothes had been sent flying all over the room, but as long as he could find his breeches and robes, he would count it as a victory.

“You don’t have to go, Dorian,” Cassian murmured, reaching out to caress over Dorian’s back.  
“You can spend the night and maybe we can have a little morning fun later.”

“No,” Dorian said as he stood up, locating his smalls halfway under the bed before pulling them on, quickly followed by his pants.  
“We won’t, Cassian.”

Cassian raised an eyebrow before chuckling. “Oh, I see. You’re playing this game, hmm?”

“I am not playing any game,” Dorian merely stated, carefully gathering his hair into a ponytail at the hairline of his neck, tying it up with a piece of thin leather-string before he pulled his undershirt on.  
“I am merely taking back what you took from me. Now that I have it back, I have no further use or desire to be with you.”

“What I took?” Cassian looked confused for a moment before laughing, giving Dorian a cheeky grin.  
“Why, Dorian, that’s not quite how it works. Your first time will always belong to me.”

“I am not speaking of that, you oaf,” Dorian replied with a grunt as he slid his robes back on. He carefully adjusted the collar of his robe before taking a quick glance at himself in the mirror. He wasn’t perfect, but he didn’t look horribly disheveled either. It would do until he got himself back to his own bedroom.  
He then looked back to Cassian, who used his elbows to lift his upper body up from the bed, giving Dorian a curious look.  
“You took my control away that night and I didn’t even know it. Everything that we did, everything that happened; you always decided when and how and I let you because I trusted you. You were in control because I did not know better.”

“What are you talking about,” Cassian said, the smile gone from his face, a look of proper confusion on his face.

“I am talking about how I now know better. I am speaking of control and how I now have it.”

“What?”

Dorian merely looked at Cassian. “We fucked on my terms this time. I’d rather it had not happened, but you are right. There is something between us there always would be, until I made peace with what happened.”  
He couldn’t help but smile as he continued to look at Cassian, reveling in the feeling of absolutely nothing. He felt… Peaceful. And the look of confusion on Cassian’s face was absolutely delightful.  
“And I believe I have. Thank you for tonight, Cassian.”

With that, Dorian turned to leave, managing to get to the door before Cassian voice stopped him. The man was working on untangling himself from the sheets before he managed to get onto his feet, seemingly not caring about the fact that he was naked.

“What is this, Dorian? What do you mean?”

“I mean exactly what I said, Cassian,” Dorian replied as he let his hand rest on the handle of the door.  
“Because you were right. If I absolutely wanted to get away from you, I would have. Instead I decided to take the opportunity to get rid of you. We fucked and now it is out of our system along with me not being under your thumb anymore. I won’t let you rile me up anymore because this round was on me.”  
Dorian pushed the handle down before pushing the door open, pausing for a moment before turning to look at Cassian, smirking some.  
“Besides, my memories were clearly inaccurate. You were not as good as I remember. In fact, you were quite terrible. But I suppose I had no reason to complain back then, having no experience in the matter. It certainly does explain a lot though.”

The gaping look on Cassian’s face was enough to make Dorian grin to himself as he left the room, feeling a sense of calm relief and victory.  
It wasn’t quite how he had pictured it going; ideally he would have preferred not to fall into bed with the man again, but now that he had… It didn’t matter anymore. They had done the deed and now Dorian could relax.

He hadn’t truly realized just how much power Cassian still had over him, despite not having thought about him for years, but the anger and hurt he felt when seeing him again was a testament on it.  
Now it didn’t matter anymore. Cassian could do whatever the hell he wanted, say whatever he wanted and Dorian couldn’t give less of a damn.

He was free from him.


	18. Unknown Allies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Dorian meets someone he will one day call a close, dear friend.

For all his accomplishments and successes, for all the praise and honor he received, Dorian knew that when it came to everything he did, he did it on his own.

After his night with Cassian, he had found it more difficult to truly trust another person, something he hadn’t thought possible.  
He was already highly skeptical to his fellow mages, but now he downright questioned their every motive in his head. Sometimes he did it loudly as well, but usually in more acceptable settings, such as balls and social gatherings.  
It didn’t make him more popular.

He couldn’t really say he cared.

Still, he was surprised to find that there were indeed people who thought like him, who believed in the things he believed and that were not afraid to speak up loudly about it.  
In fact, there were even a few Magisters that did so.

While Alexius was careful in his words and protests, there was especially one shrewd Magister who seemed un-phased and unafraid of the rest of the Magisterium.  
A woman, so unlike the others that she almost sounded like a heroine from a fairytale.

Dorian had only heard about her in passing conversation; Maevaris Tilani. The freak Magister with the unorthodox ideas. The man-woman who had taken a dwarfen male merchant as her partner and lover, and who had successfully taken her late-father’s place in the Magisterium.  
The Magister who spoke against slavery, against the past and begged the Imperium to look to the future.

Dorian desperately wanted to meet her and he would get his chance at a social ball where all the families of high status was invited.  
It was the same type of social gathering that Dorian had attended many a times already: families politely battling each other for status, bragging, showing off, spreading rumors and, if they were lucky, fawning for the Archon’s favor if he decided to make an appearance.

Officially he was there with his mother and father, which was tiresome enough, but he did thank his lucky star that Livia had become ill and could not make it. It would save him an evening of strained smiles and sharp nails digging into his arm. Instead he could just take in the music, enjoy the fine wines and food and, more discreetly, observe the men in the grand room.  
With some luck, maybe he would even find some company for the night.

He only listened with half an ear when the arriving families were loudly introduced as they entered the ballroom. After all, it was always the same guests; Lord and Lady Crocus and their two sons, Magister Varas, Lady Aurelia Lacella, Magister Danarius who, unsurprisingly, arrived without his darling elf.   
Dorian couldn’t help but feel a twinge of satisfaction in knowing that the elf had yet to be found and now that he had actually met the man, he was all the more pleased. He had actually read his research now and while absolutely fascinating, the ways in which it was done was simply humane. The pain and torment the poor elf must have gone through; Dorian couldn’t even begin to imagine it. As much as he was for research and knowing that one had to use unorthodox methods in order to get results, one had to draw the line somewhere.  
Unless the person was willing and knowing what could happen, research on another person, be it elf, human, dwarf or Qunari was wrong. And Dorian highly doubted that Danarius’ elf was aware of what would happen.  
Dorian just hoped that wherever the elf was, that he was at a better place now.

Letting his eyes wander, Dorian let them land on a particular attractive man, speaking to a woman in a corner.  
Raven-black hair, skin tanned like fine whiskey and oh, that smile… He was gorgeous, but Dorian had long since given up on trying something with his “fellow man”, so to speak.  
He had Cassian and a handful of others to thank for that.

Sighing, Dorian carefully, and elegantly, brushed an escaped strand of his shoulder-length hair back behind his ear as he continued to just let his eyes wander, letting them land more often than not on the handsome stranger, but not really lingering.  
At least the music was good and the wine was flowing.

“Introducing, Magister Maevaris Tilani, daughter of the late Athanir Tilani and the Dwarven Ambassador Thorold Tethras, her… partner.”

Dorian almost had to snort into his wine at the obvious discomfort in the announcer’s voice, but he was soon standing in awe as Maevaris made her entrance.  
She stood tall, proud, her short, golden hair styled and held up thanks to a small, tastefully decorated tiara. Her blue dress was long and blue, cut in a typical elegant Tevinter style. Holding onto her hand was a dwarf with long red hair and beard, dressed in a simple, but tasteful dwarfen outfit; a brown, long jacket, an elegant red shirt tied with a green sash and black pants.

If he was to be honest, they made for an unorthodox, yes, but very lovely and stunning couple.

Others did not seem to share his sentiment though, as several looks and quiet comments were passed around about the two of them, but if Maevaris noticed, she didn’t seem to care. She walked down the stairs with her partner in hand, smiling and nodding as she passed other Magisters, not letting their looks intimidate her.

When looking, Dorian could see how his father tensed up when he saw Maevaris; Halward was a traditionalist and Maevaris represented everything that Halward did not; free thinking, free living and a different way of life.  
As if sensing it, Maevaris immediately smiled and headed over to Halward, arms open. “Halward, darling! How wonderful to see you? Tell me, how is your wife?”

Halward managed to plaster up a pleasant smile as he leaned in to kiss Maevaris on the cheek, treating her as an old friend.  
“It is good to see you as well, Maevaris. And the wife is fine, thank you. She is about somewhere, catching up with some old friends, but I know she will be delighted to see you again. Where is your, ah… partner?”

“Of course she will,” Maevaris said with a chuckle. “And Thorold? Off to get us some wine, the darling. He is so good to me,” she added with a smile before letting her eyes land on Dorian, sizing him up before grinning.  
“And this must be the protégé I’ve heard so much about.”

Halward chuckled and nodded, gesturing for Dorian to step closer. “Indeed it is,” he murmured, the pride evident in his voice.  
“This is my son, Dorian. He’s making quite the name for himself in the Circle of Minrathous.”

“So I have heard. Grand, unorthodox ideas, or so I’ve been told,” Maevaris said as she held out her hand for Dorian, who grasped it to kiss it.

“A Pavus always reaches for what is beyond the expectations,” he murmured as he flashed Maevaris a smile.

Maevaris laughed and smiled back. “Ah, you sound like your father already. Charming.”

Halward merely cleared his throat, letting out a small chuckle at the same time; a telltale indication that he was somewhat embarrassed. “It would only be natural, he is my son,” he murmured, giving Dorian a small, proud smile.  
“I have tried my best to raise him right.”

“I am sure you have,” Maevaris said, winking at Halward before her eyes landed on someone else, stealing her attention. “Ah, do excuse me, gentlemen,” she smiled as she waved towards her next victim. “But I do see someone I have been trying to meet for weeks now! I am almost certain they are avoiding me!” The grin on her face told Dorian that she was fully aware of that fact and that she was loving it.  
“Halward. Always a pleasure seeing you. Dorian…” She smiled and winked again at him. “I do hope we can chat more later. Do save me a dance?”

“Of course, Magister Tilani,” Dorian said, bowing his head some as Maevaris wandered off with a departing wave.  
“Well… That was something,” he mused while Halward let out a small sigh.

“A brilliant Magister, but… Unorthodox. It makes it hard to support her.”

“Perhaps it is needed,” Dorian said while nipping at his wine slowly. “Some flare and courage.”

“Changes takes time, Dorian,” Halward said while grasping Dorian’s shoulder, giving it a squeeze, then a pat. “One cannot rush blindly into this kind of battle. You know how much Tevinter values traditions and it’s past, be it for better or for worse.”

“Perhaps,” Dorian hummed, understanding and even somewhat agreeing to Halward’s words.  
Still, there was a gap there, one that possibly could not be filled because they were simply too different in the way they were thinking.

Halward looked at his son though, pride in his eyes as he nodded. “I like this, Dorian. This is good?”

“The wine? It’s decent, but nothing to write home about. I think Magister Amladaris is holding back on us.”

Halward laughed as he patted Dorian on the back. “Not the wine, boy, but this. Us. Being able to talk as men, as mages of equal footing. We may not always agree on a philosophical level, but we do on an ethical one, I feel.”

“Ah,” Dorian hummed, but he could still feel that warmth spread inside him.  
That feeling he always got when he had done something his father was proud of. It was like the finest of wine and Dorian always wanted more.  
“I find myself agreeing, father. And yes, it… It is nice.”

Halward smiled and nodded before his attention was taken by Magister Amladaris; a rather heavy man who’s robes seemed a number too tight for him. Dorian could all but see the seams bursting from holding the man’s impressive girth in place.   
At the rate he was going, his son Irian would take his spot sooner rather than later.  
“Ah, it seems like the host of the grand ball would like a word. Come, join me, Dorian.”

“As nice as it is, talking on equal footing, I can picture more fun things to do than talk to Magister Amladaris. Like getting my teeth pulled by the loving hands of a blacksmith, perhaps,” Dorian said, not keeping the boredom out of his voice.

“Now, now, Dorian, I know that Magister Amladaris is a… Older gentleman, but he is wise and has many experiences. And he does have a son your age.”

“Irian is almost ten years my senior, father. I would not call that “close to my age”.”

“In mental capacity and intellect you are,” Halward mused while Dorian let out a snort.

“That could be taken both as an insult and a compliment, you know.”

“Only for Irian, Dorian,” Halward replied before heading over to greet the Magister, leaving Dorian to his own devices. Just the way he preferred it at gatherings such as these.  
He therefor took the opportunity to head over to the food-table, hoping there were still a canapé or tiny cake available there before the main dishes were served.

The rest of the party was rather uneventful until the Archon had arrived at the party.   
Dorian wasn’t quite sure what happened, except that the music and dancing was cut short when the Archon decided to killed a Magister for some sort of offence.  
The immediate rumor was, naturally, blood magic, but other whispers said that the man had simply been a pain in the Archon’s ass for some time.

Dorian wasn’t surprised; he’d found out a long time ago that most Magisters were a pain in the ass.  
And not in the fun way.

Still, the party had been pleasant enough. Good food and wine, some handsome men to look at right under his father’s nose, he had successfully avoided dancing and he had finally gotten the chance to meet Magister Tilani, even if he hadn’t gotten a chance to actually talk much to her.

Which was why an invitation from her came as such a big surprise.

While Dorian had been invited to many a Magister’s party or gathering, it was always as part of the Pavus household.  
This, however, was addressed directly to him.

_“Dear Master Dorian,_

_It was an absolute delight to finally see you at the latest social gathering, though I am saddened that we did not get to talk more than a brief introduction and I seek to rectify this._

_I hereby invite you to attend a small gathering I have this weekend and I hope that you can find the time to attend._

_I promise you, you will not regret it._

_With Kind Regards,_

_Maevaris Tilani”_

Well…  
How could he decline such a lovely invitation?

Answer was, he couldn’t.


	19. Some Quaestor at the Thousand Pillars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Dorian finally gets introduced to Rilenius.

Dorian wasn’t quite sure what to except when he arrived at the Tilani household, but whatever it was, he had not expected what he actually did see.

Maevaris, as it turned out, was everything the other Magisters said she was, but in a good way.

Her house, while built in the typical Tevinter style, had large open windows and consisted mostly of white and light-coloured stone. The large garden outside was filled with beautiful flowers and plant life, bushes and trees carefully cut and shaped into magnificent animals and shapes; she even had a fountain shaped like a dragon on the front, a torrent of water spewing out from the gaping mouth and into a circular pool.

Dorian was still staring as he approached the large door, giving it a few, solid knocks with the brass-coloured knocker. He kept his back turned to the door and only turned when he heard the door creek open. When a young man, a human, opened the door enough to see out, Dorian could not help but stare at him and the very light clothes he was wearing.   
Covered, yes, but the cut of the light-blue tunic and cream-colored pants complimented the man’s physique in a way that Dorian could definitely appreciate.

All of a sudden, his own dark robes, while made of fine, light silk, along with the silken pants, undershirt and light leather boots felt much to heavy and covering.

“Ah, welcome! I trust you are one of Lady Maevaris’ guests?”

“Ah, I… Yes. I am. Dorian Pavus,” Dorian managed to press out, amazed that he was able to sound so calm and collected when he felt taken completely off guard by the man in front of him.  
“I do hope I am not late...?”

“Not at all,” the man said as he opened the door further, bowing deeply as he allowed Dorian inside.  
“Please, do follow me. The Mistress will be delighted to see you.”

Raising an eyebrow, Dorian followed the lightly-clad man, trying his best to resist the urge to peer down at his buttocks. Maevaris was a Magister unlike all others, but it still wasn’t appropriate to ogle people of the same sex while in public, at least not in an appreciative way. 

He was swiftly guided into a large indoor bathing area, where several other people were already gathered; some of the guests looked as nervous and out of place as Dorian felt, but others seemed to have started relaxing, chatting and helping themselves to wine and fruit from the many tables.

“Ah, Dorian! Wonderful to see you here, I am so glad you accepted!”

Maevaris came down upon him like lightning from the sky, kissing his cheek as soon as she was close enough.  
Dorian imagined his face was a mix of surprise and a little bit of terror as he was quite efficiently stunned into place.

He had to give it to her though.  
Her mannerism when it came to people was warm, welcoming, open; so unlike everything he was used to when it came to social gatherings and while it was somewhat uncomfortable, Dorian had to admit that he had never felt more… Welcome.

“I… It was an honour to be invited, Magister Tilani, of course I would accept,” he managed to croak out after a few seconds of just staring, even managing to bring up a smile.

“Please, none of that “Magister” business under my own roof. You are my honoured guest,” Maevaris smiled as she snatched two glasses of ruby-red wine from the plate of a passing servant.  
“Wine, my dear?”

“Yes, please,” Dorian said, reaching over to accept the glass while suppressing the urge to just down the entire thing right away.  
This… This was terribly confusing and exciting at once. Exciting because he was in the presence with a very well-known Magister and confusing because he had no idea why he was there.  
“So indulge me, Magi-… Maevaris. What inspired you to host this grand party of yours?”

“To show everybody that there is another way,” Maevaris said while gesturing to the room.   
“All these people here have something in common. They are bright, idealistic people whose opinions, dreams and suggestions are all to make Tevinter better.”  
She let out a small chuckle and gave Dorian a sweet smile. “In short… This is me trying my very best to inspire the youth of Tevinter. You know what they say; you are our future. I just want to make sure that you are-,” she started, pausing for a moment while tapping her finger against her wine-glass.   
“-heading in the right direction, so to speak,” she finished after a few seconds of careful consideration.

“And what direction is that,” Dorian asked before nipping at the sweet red wine.

“Ah, ah, I will announce that later,” Maevaris said. “You are eager though. Eager and curious. I like that.”

“I have to be if I am to get anything done,” Dorian mused before his eyes were drawn to a man quickly walking over to Maevaris, carrying a book in his arms.

“My lady, a quick word?”

“Of course, my dear. What is it?”

As the man started speaking, Dorian allowed himself to politely “tune out”, not wanting to eaves-drop on their conversation. Instead he took the time to somewhat discreetly take in the man’s appearance, trying his best to place him.  
He was obviously not a slave, at least not a regular one if the outfit and general appearance was anything to go by. He was dressed in a simple, but very formfitting and elegant outfit; black jacket with simple embroidery on the cuffs and neck, silver buttons and a cut that ended just across his buttocks and front. The pants were also black, but without the embroidery on it, complimented only by the dark leather boots and silver buckles that decorated them.  
His black hair was short and carefully mussed, giving it a perfect mix of “controlled chaos” that Dorian so very adored. His eyes, the colour of fine whiskey, the sharp lines to his jaw and cheekbones and the lips… Oh, Dorian very much enjoyed what he was seeing.

He just hoped his tongue wasn’t hanging out of his mouth.

“Oh, but where are my manners,” Maevaris suddenly said, breaking Dorian out of his daydream as she addressed him.  
“Dorian, this is my darling book-keeper and quaestor, Rilenius. Rilenius, this is Dorian Pavus. With any luck, you will see quite a bit more off him in the time that comes.”

Dorian arched his eyebrow at the comment, curious as to what Maevaris meant while Rilenius merely bowed and smiled.  
“An honour, Lord Pavus.”

“The pleasure is all mine,” Dorian replied, nodding his head politely while Maevaris smiled.

“You will have to excuse me, but I am afraid duty is calling. Just some financial business, dreadfully boring stuff. But do enjoy yourself, Dorian. Have more wine, find some food, find someone nice and lovely to chat with. Everything lovely is allowed under my roof. And I mean everything,” she winked before wandering off with Rilenius to handle her affairs.

Dorian stared after them before downing the glass of wine, immediately seeking a new one along with something to eat.  
She certainly had spared no expenses, but as far as Dorian had heard, she was pretty well off thanks to her father and her partner. Not that the woman didn’t deserve it; she was obviously hard working and, by the looks of it, very generous. This wasn’t a party to impress, this was to bring familiarity and comfort; simple, but delicious food, soft music, dances, sparsely decorated and no slave ready to lick their feet at their command.  
It was refreshing and, in all honestly, must more preferable than the great events tossed by other Magisters. Dorian still had the memory of a slave all but killed for the amusement of others fresh in mind and quite frankly, it made him sick to even think about it. He tried to avoid those parties the best he could, but sometimes it was unavoidable.  
At least his father thought it equally disgusting and though he didn’t speak up against it, he didn’t do it when hosting parties himself, nor did he allow it in his home.

A small comfort and a piss-poor excuse, but Dorian had learned to take his victories where he could by now.

Popping a date into his mouth, Dorian chewed on it slowly, savouring the sweetness as he just let his eyes roam over the room, trying his best to get a feel of the mood that was going on there.  
It certainly seemed pleasant enough, even if some people were quite obviously separating themselves away from the others, choosing to have private conversations with what Dorian assumed were colleagues or even friends. Most were young, about his age, but there were a few that seemed to be older, closer to the age of his father.

It was only then he noticed that there was more to the party than a simply gathering of like-minded people.

It was hard to notice at first because clearly there was a fear and discomfort to it, but one look in the right direction at the right time was all Dorian needed to see it.  
There, in a corner, discreetly talking and looking just like any other pair of men having a pleasant and friendly conversation, if not for the fact that their fingers were ever so gently touching one another. Never long, only for a second or two before they pulled way, only to return a few seconds later.   
Discreetly, hidden.   
By the pool, two women were talking, but the looks they shared were not that of friends, but of longing. The smiles were shy, the gaze warm and while they did not touch one another, they stood close, as if whispering secrets to one another.

Now that he had seen it, Dorian was seeing it everywhere and for a moment he felt panicked. Was this a coincidence or was this part of some plan? Was this Maevaris’ intention and if it was, what was the intention?

“You seem a little panicked, my lord.”

Jumping a little, Dorian almost dropped his glass as the young man Maevaris had spoken to earlier had seemingly appeared out of nowhere.  
The man, Rilenius, merely chuckled and smiled some when he got no further answer from Dorian. “My apologizes, my lord. I did not mean to startle you.”

“I… No, it’s… It’s fine,” Dorian said, clearing his throat some as he worked on regaining his composure, not wanting to be caught with his pants down so to speak.  
“I am merely curious about the nature of this gathering, that is all. I know she spoke of inspiring the youth of Tevinter, but I am not sure how she plans to do this.”

“One that will be revealed soon,” Rilenius promised as he gave Dorian a small smile, though still keeping a respectful distance and attitude towards him.  
“So I hope you can stand the suspension a little longer.”

“I am sure I will be able to find some entertainment here to keep my mind off it,” Dorian replied as he took a sip from his wine.  
“If not, I find that alcohol always works well in passing the time. That, and present company isn’t bad.”

Dorian winced mentally as he let that one slip, but hoped that Rilenius wouldn’t take offence or, better yet, not understand what he had just implied.  
He knew it was just a back-hand comment that could be taken in a hundred different ways, but in his mind, that one, forbidden interpretation would always scream the loudest.

“I certainly try my best, even if I cannot entertain for long,” Rilenius mused, giving Dorian another smile.  
“But we shall meet again, Lord Pavus.”

“Oh,” Dorian asked before his attention was brought to a sudden silence that swept through the room as Maevaris stepped up on a small, elevated platform by the large indoor pool.

“Greetings to you all, and thank you for honouring me with your presence on this lovely night,” she called out, smiling as she held her hands out towards them.  
“I am sure many of you are curious as to why you are here. Some of you may have guessed it, but I can see looks of curiosity on most of your faces. It is precious,” she teased gently, giggling softly as people started glancing at one another, insecurity flashing across their faces.

“Oh, but do relax, this is nothing dangerous,” she laughed, bringing her right hand to her chest.  
“This is my way of showing how many allies you have. You are all here because of the way you think. You are here because you are bright, you are curious and you want something different, something better for our precious Imperium. You are here because you have spoken how the Imperium needs to change, quickly, for the better, but out of fear of not being heard, you have never dared to fight it.” She gestured with the other hand towards the crowd.  
“But look around you and see that you are not alone. These are people who want things better. Who wants change. And together, you will have a voice loud enough to be heard by even the Archon himself.”

She smiled some as she looked at the people, allowing them a moment to digest the words.  
“I am not saying to revolt; this is not a revolution. That will not solve anything, not in this day and age. Fire cannot fight against fire, not here. But you are young, you are the sons and daughters of Magisters, of mages in prominent positions. You are heirs and one day you will get your seat in the Magisterium. This is a party to show that you have the power, the knowledge and the people behind you to make yourself heard. So use tonight to gather new friends. True friends.”  
Accepting a glass of wine from one of her slaves, Maevaris lifted it up high.  
“A toast. For what I hope will be new friendships, maybe even partnerships. In this house, you are free to speak your mind, always. You are free to be who you are,” she smiled as she looked at the guests.  
“Of course… no abuse towards my servants. That is not tolerated. They are here, serving you, and shall be treated with respect. If you have a problem with anything, you take it with me, not them.”

As the guests started clapping, with Dorian himself doing the same, he found himself surprised by Maevaris’ words and her attitude. She truly was not like other Magisters Dorian had ever seen or visited.  
It was inspiring and for a moment Dorian felt that would more people like _her_ in the Magisterium, then perhaps change could happen in the Imperium, but not just the obvious state of things. In her speech, she had implied the little things as well; things such as referring to her slaves as servants, how she would not tolerate abuse against them for things that were not their fault, how people would be free to be themselves… It was refreshing.

Still, he was not sure if that all she wanted to convey to the people that were gathered; he wasn’t sure why or what, but he felt certain that there was more behind it.

The evening passed rather pleasantly and as the wine continued to flow, the nerves of the people at the gather seemed to grow.   
Dorian found himself in interesting conversations with other students, men and women alike, talking about everything and anything under the sun; politics, fashion, magic, literature, whatever they seemed willing to talk about.  
And there was flirting. Oh, so much of it and Dorian found that he enjoyed it greatly.  
There didn’t seem to be the usual lid on things as both men and women propositioned him, but while he did respond flirtatiously back to either gender, mostly out of habit, he found himself veiling more promise into his words when talking with the men.  
He did not see Rilenius for the rest of the evening, which disappointed him somewhat, but he did get another chance to speak to Maevaris.   
Or rather, she sought him out herself.

He had taken a moment to himself to draw some air, feeling the pleasant buzz from the alcohol hum through his body, and thus had excused himself to the outside garden for some fresh air.

“Ah, there you are,” a chipper voice sounded from behind him followed by the sound of her heels hitting the marble-floor.  
“You vanished so quickly that I thought you had fled.”

Dorian laughed softly, though it was mostly to mask his own nervousness.  
“No, I wouldn’t dream of doing that. I just needed some air, it got quite hot in there.”

“It usually does,” Maevaris mused while nipping at the wine she has brought with her outside. “But I do hope you are enjoying yourself, at least a little.”

“It was certainly a sight I haven’t seen before,” Dorian confessed before glancing at her. “Is… this the norm? For you, I mean?”

“Whatever do you mean?” Maevaris asked, but the teasing smile on her lips told Dorian that she was baiting him just a little. She wanted him to be open about what he had seen.

“The… Couplings in there. I noticed that they were-,” Dorian started before trailing off, feeling his cheeks redden.  
“-Never mind. It is not important.”

Maevaris merely chuckled and smiled some. “As you say, dear Dorian. As you say. Just know that as long as you are under this roof, you are free to be yourself, exactly as you are.”

Dorian raised an eyebrow, though there was a glimmer of insecurity in his eyes, something he was unable to hide away. When he didn’t speak, Maevaris continued to smile before filling the silent void between them.  
“You may not see it yet, but I do this because I know. Because I understand how you feel, Dorian,” Maevaris murmured, her voice soft and kind as she continued smiling gently at him. “I know you do not know me. And you certainly have no reason to trust me, speak to me, confine in me or even be a friend. But I know how you feel. I know how it is to not be true to oneself and embrace what you know to be the truth, all in the name of dignity and saving face.”

“I am not sure what you are talking about,” Dorian said, automatically feeling the protective walls come up around him.

Maevaris just smiled and nipped at her wine. “I think you do, Dorian. And you may not be ready for it now, but when you are… I am willing to be a listening ear. An ally who knows what you are going through.”

Dorian continued to remain silent, though his hands were gripping hard at the balcony railings as he stared out ahead.

“Of course, there is more to it than just that,” Maevaris continued.   
“I just find that people who have experienced a need to hide themselves to be the ones more willing and able to create change. They see things that nobody else does, namely the things that are wrong or unjust. Things that needs to be changed. And I find that those who are able to see that those who are-.” She paused for a moment, tapping a manicured finger against her chin before continuing. “-those who are free-thinking.”

Dorian couldn’t help but let out a bitter laugh as she finished, shaking his head ever so slightly. “I may be young, Magister Tilani. And inexperienced. Naïve, perhaps. But even I know that you would find yourself hard pressed to find that in Tevinter.”

“And yet I have gathered an entire mansion full of them, young Master Pavus,” Maevaris retorted, smirking a little.  
“I can see that you are defensive. And with reason. You had a hard past and even know you struggle.”

“Did you invite me here to lecture me?” Dorian asked as he finally turned his head around, giving Maevaris a tired look. “Because right now, I am a little confused as to why. You spoke of grandeur in there, but to me, you speak of… Acceptance. Of like-minded people.”

“Oh Dorian,” Maevaris murmured, the cheerful smile vanishing as a sadder look replaced it. “You have truly experienced hardship. Even know, you have a hard time seeing a hand that is offered in kindness instead of hardship. Too used to the hand striking you instead of caressing you.”

“Magister, I am not comfortable with the direction this conversation is taking,” Dorian replied, his tone a bit harsher than he intended, but the sudden implications were leaving his heart raising, creating a state of mild panic.  
He did not care if the room behind him was filled with men or women that had the preferences he did, he did not care if someone like Maevaris, who had faced more challenges head-on than any other Magister he knew, was supporting him.  
It was too close to home. A secret being revealed too fast and he wasn’t ready for it.   
It was almost torture, feeling the shame mix itself with the voice that told him that he was okay. That it was okay.

“Of course,” Maevaris said instead, giving Dorian a small, but kind smile. “I will desist this part of our conversation.”

“This part?”

“Yes. Because there is more I wish to talk to you about. Specifically, about the desperate need for change.”

“Yes, you were quite passionate about that,” Dorian murmured, tilting his head some.

“I will admit, I do have my own agenda in all this. Many of the people here, while young, idealistic, willing to make a change, do not have the balls for it,” Maevaris said while finally walking towards the railing, looking over the darkening back garden.  
“They lack a voice and what they need is a voice to follow until they can find their own. They are so… Used to the way things are and while they know it is wrong, that change is needed, they are suppressed by the older generation because they _have_ a voice, a status, a position within the Imperium. It is hard to stand up against them when you know that it can easily result in your death.”

“And?”

“And based on what I have heard about you, Dorian Pavus, I believe that you have a voice. A loud one, one that can be used.”

Dorian arched an eyebrow at the comment. “I am not sure what you- “  
He snapped his lips shut as Maevaris’ pressed a perfectly manicured finger against his lips.

“You will, in time. Only a fool has missed what you have done so far, Dorian. I have read your theories, I have heard about your debates, your arguments and I am very, very curious about what else is hiding behind those grey eyes of yours.”  
She continued to smile as she removed her finger from on top of Dorian’s mouth. “Which is why I too shall support you financially, Dorian. Your theories and your research intrigue me and I want to ensure that you have the support you need because I know that what you do will help benefit Tevinter. In fact, I am so much confidence in you that I am going to let you borrow Rilenius.”

“… What?”

“Well, you liked him, didn’t you? You seemed to enjoy talking to him tonight and I believe he will provide some assistance to you, when it comes to handling your finances.”

“I am able to handle my finances on my own, thank you,” Dorian replied with a slight frown.

“Right now, yes, but what will you do when you start gaining more support? Making your own money, buying a place of your own, paying for help and servants?”

“I do know math, Magisters.”

“Yes, I am not speaking of your knowledge. I am speaking of time.” Maevaris laughed, smiling at Dorian. “Trust me, I know my numbers, but I barely have the time. But Rilenius has been a treasure and I would be completely lost without him. I want to help you and I believe he can help. That and he will be able to bring my support to you or to your treasury of choice. Maybe even some news.”

“That is… Very generous of you,” Dorian said, feeling speechless and quite frankly, more than a little lost and confused. He had no idea where he had her and where this sudden support came from.  
Alexius… He understood that. He had worked under him, Alexius knew what he could do, but this woman… Yes, she had heard about him, for better or for worse, and yet she was willing to offer him help. Support.

Nobody except for Alexius had done that before.

“Not generous. I am merely putting some money into the future,” Maevaris winked as she pushed herself away from the railings.  
“Do enjoy yourself for the rest of the evening. I will let Rilenius come by your apartment during the week with the first of my support.”

Before Dorian could say anything further, Maevaris vanished back inside, leaving him alone in the chilled evening with his thoughts.  
His head was spinning and he wished he could say it was from the wine, but if anything, he felt even more sober now than he had when he first arrived.

Maevaris’ sudden support… It was unexpected.  
He knew that many Magisters were watching him; that was half the point of the many debates and social gatherings he partook in, but he hadn’t expected for anyone to support him outside of Alexius, a support that would end as soon as he was done with his education.

That was another thing that somewhat frightened him. What would happen once he was done with his studies and had reached the rank he wanted. He would have to take a long, hard look at his responsibilities then and one of them was marriage.

He understood Maevaris’ intentions.   
He understood that she wanted to show him, to show everybody that it was possible to live a life where one could be free to express oneself, to show the world who they were. In fact, she had already paid the price for her way of living.  
Dorian… Dorian wasn’t sure he could pay that price.

For now, he wanted to focus on what was happening here and now. The future was an unknown; ever changing and unpredictable.   
He was hoping that with just a little more time, then maybe… Just maybe…

He was hoping. But he also knew that he was hoping for a lie. He just didn’t want to admit it. 

He wasn’t ready to.


	20. Felix

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Dorian is given horrible news.

The year 9:34 Dragon came and went, with the biggest event that Tevinter even remotely focused on and cared about was an attack by the Qunari on the city of Kirkwall.  
The Arishok had been killed by the “champion of Kirkwall”, the Qunari had gone up and left, and, for Tevinter, it had been a time of unexpected peace. The fact that many people had died in Kirwall, well… That was just an “unfortunate” side-effect that held little to no meaning to the general population of nobles. They didn’t care why it had happened because “it didn’t happen to us for a change”.  
Or rather, it didn’t happen to the many sea-based cities, towns and villages or the islands around Tevinter. Of course, again, that was merely a detail.

Dorian himself had spent the winter holidays at home with his parents in Qarinus though left early when they started asking him about marriage and Livia again. He just couldn’t stomach it and, after the First Day was celebrated, he returned to Minrathous. There was no way in hell that he would spend Wintersent there, knowing what that particular holiday meant.  
Still, it had been nice, visiting his mother and father again so he couldn’t complain too much. That and Livia had not showed up for the First Day party they had held, which Dorian counted as a victory.

He had no great expectations for the new year, believing that it would be like the last except that he would become one year older once Harvestmere rolled around.

How wrong he would be.

It was almost midnight when the messenger pounded on Dorian’s door, rousing him from a rather lovely dream involving whiskey-coloured eyes and strong, firm hands, back into reality in all its underwhelming pleasures.  
At the moment, Dorian found the messenger rather rude, flinging the door open while giving the man the most milk-curling look he could muster. The fact that he was in nothing but a robe and his hair was a tangled mess probably lessened the effect, but the man on the other side of the door still looked a bit unsettled.  
“What?” Dorian barked as half a minute of silence stretched between them.

“I… I apologize, lord Pavus! There… I… I have a message!”

“This better be a good one,” Dorian grumbled, forgetting his manners in his sleepy state as he took the scroll offered by the messenger with a somewhat brisk movement. Eyes still blurred from sleep, Dorian fiddled with the wax-seal, mumbling a little to himself as his mind desperately wanted to return to bed before he finally got enough control of his fingers to unroll the damn thing.

What he read sent his heart directly up into his throat, then down into his belly as his insides started hurting.

Suddenly he wasn’t so sleepy anymore.

He read the scroll, took in every word, every sentence, analysed it, but finding that the words meant the same no matter how many times he read them.  
He felt himself go cold, his heart hammering hard in his chest, his mind was spinning and he found that it was hard to breathe.

“… M-master Pavus?” the messenger tried carefully, but Dorian didn’t listen.

He merely nodded as his eyes looked down at the scroll. “… Thank you. You may leave now,” he mumbled, but he didn’t move from his spot himself. Eyes still glued to the piece of parchment in his hands.

“Dear Dorian,

I regret to inform you that tragedy has struck the Alexius household.  
My wife has passed due to an unfortunate event and Felix is fighting a terrible illness and fate.

I would like for you to come for my wife’s final rites and burial as I know she was fond of you, as well to be an emotional support for Felix.

We need you, Dorian.

With regards,  
Gereon Alexius”

It was short, bittersweet, very uninformative and hard to read no matter how many times he tried.

Livia… Livia was dead.  
And Felix was sick.

His mind was spinning due to all the questions he suddenly found himself with, but he knew that the only person who could answer them was Alexius himself.

He had to go there now.

***

Dorian hadn’t slept since he got the news.

He had thanked the messenger again when he saw that the man had not left and, after paying him for the swift delivery, he had rushed to his bedroom to start packing.  
He honestly wasn’t even sure what he had packed down. He just grabbed clothes, items, books; whatever he believed he would need and stuffed them into a bag.

The trip from Minrathous to Asariel wasn’t far, a few days’ journey by carriage, but it left Dorian with too much time to think.  
It had been months since the last time he had visited the household, months since the last time he and Gereon had worked together with their latest theories, or he and Felix spending time with one another. He had made plans to visit after the First Day, when the Alexius’ household returned from the Andersfelds, but now…   
He tried to read, tried to prepare himself for what was to meet him, but he honestly did not know what to expect. He had been around dead people before, it had been an important part in educating himself in the basics of healing magic, and because of his social standing, he had been a witness to more than one murder happening in balls and gatherings.  
But he had never had someone close to him die before.

He honestly did not know how to feel.  
Grief? Oh, certainly.   
Pain? Most definitely.

But Livia had been Felix’ mother, Gereon’s wife… What was he to say? He had no experienced to which to compare to such a loss. The closest family he had lost was some aunt that had passed when he was a child and he couldn’t even remember her.  
And with Felix sick… It was no secret that both Gereon and Livia loved, adored and doted on their son, and with the loss of his wife… Dorian wasn’t sure if Gereon would be able to loose Felix as well.

When the carriage finally pulled up in front of the Alexius household on their fourth day of travel, Dorian felt grossly underprepared.   
The entire house felt odd even from the outside and as he walked up the steps to knock on the door, he felt himself shaking.

Things went in a bit of a blur after that.  
He remembered knocking on the door, waiting for what felt like a small eternity before one of the slaves opened the door for him. He remembered being showed into the sitting-room where Alexius was sitting, silently, dressed in black robes and with an almost ashen-white face.  
He remembered barely being able to croak out his mentor’s name before he was swept into a hug so tight he felt his ribs dig into his insides. He remembered hugging Alexius just as tightly back as they just stood there. Not saying a single word.

He remembered being guided up to Felix’s room and upon seeing his friend… Dorian remembered crying.

Felix was laying there, so pale, so frail-looking, surrounded by the finest and best medics and healers’ money could buy. He was unmoving, barely breathing, with thin, dark veins showing underneath the skin.  
The healers and medics were doing all they could for him, keeping him in a sleep-like state to prevent any pain as they worked, but there was little they could do.  
There was no cure for the illness that Felix had.

As Alexius finally opened up to him, telling what had happened as they shared a bottle of brandy between them, the horrible accident became clear.  
Livia and Felix had been attacked by hurlocks as they had travelled through southern Tevinter on their way to the Andersfelds. Livia had died instantly, but Felix… Felix had become tainted. Sick with the blight. A fate crueller than that his mother had suffered.

The healers were doing all they could, they had been ever since getting there, but Felix had already gone hours without much help before he had been brought to a proper healer once the attack had been dealt with. The taint was already going a good job of spreading itself through his system and for now, all they could do was try to help him live through his own mother’s funeral, as per his own request.

Dorian had been allowed to speak with him in one of his waking moments and was unsurprised to learn that Felix was already making peace with his fate. He was ready to die and while sad to cause his father and Dorian so much pain, reassured his friend that he was fine with it.  
The healers were optimistic that he would live for the days needed to take part in his mother’s funeral, maybe even weeks longer and the news, while hardly new for Gereon, made the old man despair even further.

Gereon had openly cried that evening, a display that made Dorian both sad and uncomfortable.  
He was so used to Gereon being this pillar of strength, able to do anything, to shoulder anything, but now… Now he was a hollow shell, grieving the loss of his love and the fate of his son.

The Maker, Dorian decided, had a cruel sense of humour, if this was the reward good men had to look forward to. Because Alexius was a good, loving man. 

The funeral would take place two days after Dorian’s arrival to the Alexius household.

It was a simple ceremony, with only close family and friends allowed at her wake, all dressed in black and sparely decorated clothing.   
As per tradition, her body had been cleaned and dressed in a fine gown made out of silks, pearls and jewels. It was simple in design, but she looked beautiful in it.  
“Her wedding-gown,” Alexius had said, his voice hoarse from fighting back the tears.

She was placed on a pyre, surrounded by flowers, books and her hands holding over her favourite little stuffed animal; a little bear from Ferelden, which had been a present she had received from Alexius early in their courting.  
The Revered Mother said her prayers as they gathered around the pyre before it was set ablaze with the help of a torch rather than a spell.

As the flames caught and grew stronger, the sounds of people crying and sniffling grew louder.  
While the Pavus household was there, Dorian stood with Alexius and Felix, helping in moving Felix around as he barely had enough strength to remain standing.  
Despite the incense and burning herbs that were surrounding them, the first whiff of the body burning was enough to make Dorian’s stomach churn, but he remained unfazed on the outside. He had to be strong, for the sake of the family.

The crown remained there for what felt like hours, just watching, crying and holding one another as the Revered Mother sang a prayer to send Livia’s spirit to the maker. Only when the fire’s intensety started lovering did they head inside for the wake.  
Dorian didn’t head there imidiately and instead helped Felix back up to his room for some much needed rest.

“Thank you for being here,” Felix whispered as Dorian helped lowering him to the bed, giving his friend a faint smile.  
“You being here… It gives father strength. I hope you will continue to be there for him even after-“

“Hush,” Dorian murmured as he offered Felix some water from a small glass bowl, letting him drink.  
“You are not leaving us just yet and the healers may yet find something to…”

“Dorian… There is no cure for the blight,” Felix murmured after swallowing a couple of small mouthfuls of water.

“Maybe not, but… Magical miracles happen every day,” Dorian said, feeling a lump in his throat as he tried not to think about what Felix was saying.  
Felix didn’t answer, having already started to drift away from sheer exhaustion.

Dorian didn’t leave his side. Instead he remained, just watching his friend as he slowly drifted off, barely aware of the presence of one of the many healers that was always in the room to tend to Felix’ every need.  
When he finally came down from his friend’s room, the wake was calm and sober, with people quietly talking amongst themselves, sharing memories about Livia. Some had already left after paying their respects to Alexius.  
Alexius had, understandably enough, spent most of the time drinking silently, only speaking or socializing when he was approached. To his credit, he held his mask well, giving sad smiles to the ones speaking to him, but Dorian could see the pain in his mentor’s eyes.  
It was hard not to take note of it.

When the sun started setting, the wake was nearing its end with the last people leaving just as dusk was coming.

Dorian remained with Alexius, helping him gather the few trinkets and presents that had been given in Livia’s memories. Papers, books, clothes she had left at the Circle or Magisterium. Just small things that had held value to the woman.  
“It was a beautiful sermon,” Dorian murmured quietly as he folded up a silken scarf.

Alexius said nothing, merely down another glass with brandy before filling it back.

“You know Livia wouldn’t want you to grieve like this,” Dorian continued, turning to look at his mentor.  
“She would want you to move on. And to spent time with Felix.”

“Livia killed my father to protect our son,” Alexius replied, his voice hoarse and bitter. “Because he wanted to kill him for being “magically inept”. And here I am, letting our son die. Our only son. Our darling son.”

“What happened was beyond your control, Alexius,” Dorian replied carefully, putting the silken scarf down.  
“You could not have known and at worse, Felix might have lost both his parents. You… You cannot think about the “what ifs”, that will just drive you mad.”

“I should have been there, Dorian!” Alexius barked out, slamming his fist down hard onto the table.  
“I should have been there! I should have protected them both, but I was not! Look at me now! My wife is dead and my son is dying!”

“And you are doing either of them any favours by blaming yourself,” Dorian retorted. “You cannot change what has happened, but you can do something now. And that is being with Felix and doing whatever you can for him in his last… While he is here.”

Alexius just mumbled something under his breath while nursing his glass with brandy. Dorian had lost count on how many drinks the man had had by now and while Alexius wasn’t looking, Dorian took the almost empty flask from the desk. He didn’t think Alexius would do well with anymore alcohol.  
“Sorry, Alexius, but I didn’t catch that.”

“I’ll find a way,” Alexius mumbled. “I’ll find a way… Even if it kills me…”

Dorian sighed some and carefully placed his hands on Alexius’ shoulders, trying to steer him towards the stairs so he could take him to bed. “We can talk about that when you are sober, Alexius. Right now, you would believe in unicorns if I said there was one in your yard.”

Alexius merely grunted, leaning heavily on Dorian as the younger man took him to bed. 

It was a struggle in itself, getting Alexius to even lie down and Dorian didn’t even want to attempt trying to get him to undress in the state he was in.  
He felt just as tired as Alexius looked, but he felt he had to be strong for him. He had to help him. He owed him that much.

“You will help me… Right?”

“Pardon?” Dorian asked, having not caught the slurred words due to his own thoughts. He looked at Alexius and it was there and then he saw just how distressed and in pain Alexius was.  
The man’s eyes were glazed over, red from crying. The sun-kissed skin already paled from spending days upon days inside, grieving ever since the accident had happened. The dark shadows under his eyes, the unkempt look from not shaving.  
The worse was the eyes. A pool of grief, of sorrow, of pain. There was nothing there except desperation. Sorrow.

No hope.

Nothing.

“You are my wonder, Dorian. A wonder of thaumaturgy, gifted. Help me, Dorian.”

Desperation.

“You know I will do whatever I can for you and for Felix,” Dorian murmured, carefully tucking Alexius in. “I will be here.”

Alexius continued mumbled to himself, the alcohol-intake finally catching up to the rest of his body as the older man started drifting away. Dorian didn’t move, as if afraid that even the slightest movement would wake Alexius back up from his drunken slumber.  
He had no idea how long he stood by the man’s side, unmoving like a statue, just watching the man, his master and mentor, sleep. He took in everything about Alexius and he stored it inside himself.

He had to help…

He had to do something.

Anything.


	21. Mors Certa, Hora Incerta

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Dorian learns that life and death often goes hand in hand.  
> Warning! - To those of you who don't like the mention of animal experimentation, you may want to avoid the last part of this chapter! It is not graphic, but it is touched upon!

After seven days of sitting in his office, refusing to speak to anyone or even seeing his son, Alexius finally emerged, looking strangely invigorated. He had the look of a man that was grieving yes, but he was clean, shaven and had a downright stubborn look in his eyes.

Dorian knew that look all too well and it was with a look of surprise that he stood up from his chair, heading towards his mentor as Alexius came into his son’s room. Dorian, who had spent most of his time with Felix, watching and helping in whatever he could, couldn’t say he felt as energetic as Alexius seemed to be, but he still wanted to make sure that Alexius was actually doing okay.   
And that he would be ready to be updated about Felix.

While Felix had been stable, the Blight was still taking its toll, leaving him weaker and weaker with each day that went by. At the rate it was spreading, the healers suspected that Felix would only have a few more weeks to live at best, and only if they continued their current treatment; weeks that would most likely cause more harm than good to the poor man’s body and spirit.

Alexius, however, did not look like a man whose son was dying.  
Instead he passed Dorian by and kneeled by Felix’s hand, taking his hand and squeezed it.  
“We will cure you, Felix. We will cure you,” he promised, voice firm and confident.

“Father…”   
Felix’ voice was as weak as the rest of him, but his eyes were clear. He was tired, weak, but he was still very much with them.  
“You don’t have to… Nobody has cured the Blight…”

“Then we will. I will find a way, Felix. I promise.”  
Alexius then turned to Dorian, giving him a look. “Dorian… Go to my office, please. We have much to talk about, but I need a moment alone with my son.”

“I… Of course,” Dorian said, giving his mentor a small bow before leaving father and son alone. 

As he wandered down the hallway, heading towards Alexius’ office as instructed, he hoped Alexius wouldn’t upset or tire Felix out too much. Felix, ever the optimist, was ready to pass, and while he held sorrow and regret for his father, he wanted his father to move on and accept what was going on instead of wallowing in his sorrow and guilt.  
And Dorian knew that Felix wanted Dorian to do the same. After all, he had told him as much; every day as Dorian sat with him in the last week.

No regrets, no sorrows. Just love and warm memories, and the knowledge that Felix would be with the Maker because he was a good man.

Stepping into Alexius’s office, Dorian closed the door behind him before leaning back against it, letting the back of his head hit the hard, wooden surface as he exhaled heavily.  
He was exhausted, mentally and physically so, but he wanted to do everything he could for Alexius. He had already made the decision to stay until Felix passed, wanting to be there both for his mentor and for his friend both out of love and out of concerned. Alexius… He worried about him. His mentor clearly did not accept that Felix was dying and Dorian knew he had to be there to help him accept it somehow.

He just didn’t know how.

Pushing himself away from the door, Dorian started to slowly pace around the office, his mind already trying to formulate some sort of battle-plan. He had to be supportive, but he also had to be the voice of reason. That was easy enough, but he also had to be delicate, understanding.  
Dorian was aware that sometimes he could be as blunt as a club to the face, especially when he felt frustrated and that was partly what worried him.

Jumping slightly as the door swung up, Dorian looked towards Alexius as he came striding into the room, wearing a look on his face that was hard to describe. A mix of eager, focused and delusional. Like he was a hundred miles away.

“Alexius?”

“Come Dorian,” Alexius said as he walked past Dorian and headed over to his desk. “We have much work to do and precious little time.”

“Work? What work?”

“Remember what we spoke off last year, Dorian?” Alexius said while looking through a stack of papers, eyes darting from side to side.  
“Our theories in order to bend time itself?”

“Yes,” Dorian replied slowly as he folded his arms over his chest, raising an eyebrow as he remained where he was, observing his mentor as he shifted through the papers.  
“And I also remember that we came to the conclusion that such a feat is near impossible. The amount of magic, of power… Such a source does not exist in a form that we can exploit.”

“Theories, Dorian,” Alexius said while finding the papers he was looking for, holding them up for Dorian to see. “We only spoke of theories. We never tested, never tried. And I have thought about this closely and I believe I know what we must do!”

“Alexius-“ Dorian started, his sceptical expression making way for a more concerned look.

“We must set to work, time is against us,” Alexius said, holding his hand to shush his old student’s words.  
As Alexius started gathering books from his massive selection of rare tomes, Dorian felt himself torn. Torn between duty and torn between what was as close as family to him.  
He had been prepared to stay with Alexius for a few more days, even weeks to help him process his grief and sorrow, but this...? If he stayed, if he dedicated himself to helping his mentor, he would lose his progress within the circle. He would lose his current position, he would fall behind on his work, his research and his assignments, and he would lose his chance to be considered for the position as senior enchanter.

But Alexius… He owed Alexius everything; his current position, all the chances and possibilities, possible even his life.

To him, the choice was obvious.

“Alright,” he said slowly as he unfolded his arms, moving to stand by his mentor to help him with the books. “Where do we start?”

The look of gratitude and hope that appeared on his mentor’s face was all the confirmation Dorian needed to know that he had made the right choice.

***

Time was off the essence, and Dorian and Alexius were quick to divide the labour between them.  
The most important thing for Alexius was to get Felix stabilised; his health was deteriorating and while Dorian felt that letting the poor man die now would be the kinder option, he was ready to assist his mentor in his attempt.

The problem was, however, that the way the taint spread through someone’s body was still very much unknown and even the attempted use of the cleansing effect of bloodmagic had not been enough to help remove the toxins and taint. The obvious and common knowledge was what happened to a body; if the taint spread far enough, you became a ghoul, forever lost to the taint and to life. Once it had progressed that far, nothing could be done except granting the person a swift death.  
However, the Grey Wardens seemed to be the exception to the rule in one way or the other; they fought Darkspawn all the time and Dorian knew it was impossible for them to not get Darkspawn blood on them or inside them, one way or the other. They had a secret, they knew a way and Dorian was set on finding out exactly what that was.

Alexius had reached out to the Wardens that were located in Tevinter, all but begging for help, but after the first week had passed with no answer, he was getting impatient. He sent them more messages, asking, begging, saying he was willing to pay any price if they could be of assistance, but he got nothing back.

Not able to wait for a response that may or may not come, Dorian took matters into his own hands so while Alexius started working on his theories in relation to time-magic, Dorian started working on Felix.

It was already clear that even the best of healers that Tevinter had to offer could only do so much, but Dorian had an idea.

The idea of bloodmagic as a means to help had always been acceptable to a certain degree in Tevinter and while Dorian himself wasn’t crazy about that kind of magic, he also found aspects about it fascinating. His father had always spoke ill of bloodmagic, how it was “the resort of the weak minded”, but Dorian could see the possibilities in the healing factors. But more was needed.

So Dorian started digging, locating every little bit he could about Grey Wardens, legends, healing magic, spirit magic, the blights, the taint, obscure illnesses and old magic.  
He sent for books, he wrote his colleagues at the Circle, even asked his father and mother to bring him everything they could from their own libraries.

It didn’t take long before books, letters, tomes, documents and scrolls started flowing in, and Dorian eagerly set to work, devouring everything he could.  
He created thesis and while most were scrapped he held onto a few with the hope that they would carry fruit.

He did not, however, expect that Felix’s greatest chance would be shrouded in death.

It was an idea that Dorian had not even thought about, but it came from a colleague who had studied magic in Nevarra.

When younger, Dorian had visited Nevarra with his parents and he had desperately wanted to visit a Necropolis, having somewhat of a fascination with the histories of the undead that roamed the halls underneath the cities. Morbid, but for a curious boy who was still fascinated with everything magic could do, it was an adventure.

Now that he was older, he knew it was the art of Necromancy and when he read the letter from his colleague, his mind started working.

Necromancy… The art of binding a spirit to a body to help it move.  
Closely linked with the art of spirit-magic, where spirits assisted in the acceleration of healing the human body, using their own energy to help the injured and sick.  
Healing magic linked with magic of the dead, entwined. 

Light and dark blended together.

When the thought was born, Dorian could not let it go.

He sent for more information about necromancy, his plan shaping more and more as he thought about it.  
Sending for a necromancer would not do, it would take too long to explain his theories and even then, they might not be able to manipulate the magic correctly. It had to be precise and it had to be done right. If they did something wrong, it could cost Felix his life.

No. Dorian had to learn the art himself.

He transformed his room into a study and with Alexius blessings, he sent for test-subjects.  
He started with rats, knowing he needed to learn how to bind a spirit to flesh and the only way he could do that was to actually have a body. He knew that a rat was different from a human, but he had to start somewhere and he honestly wasn’t sure if he could actually get his hands on one. He knew Alexius could probably assist, but he did not want to bother him with the request until he knew that his theories actually could be accomplished.  
Of course, he needed the bodies for one more reason…

Knowing he had to learn as much about the spread of the blight, needed to see it himself to know exactly how it coursed through a body, Dorian needed so test it on live subjects and again, rats were the best option. There was no way he would subject a living person to this.  
Darkspawn blood wasn’t easy to get a hold off and Dorian had to ask for many favours in order to get his hands on it and while he waited, he practised what he could.

In addition to necromancy, Dorian tried to learn the art of healing by observing the healers that tended to Felix, using their knowledge and guidance to learn about anatomy and the human body in a different way than he had before. He learned to bend the veil and use the given energy of spirits to mend wounds, ease pains and slowly draw poisons and taint from wounds, which in return gave him hope. 

He also helped Alexius with his research and together they started working on making Alexius’ theories a reality.  
They already knew that it could be done, but in order to harness the possibilities, they needed a focus. An anchor.

It was exhausting and Dorian would work for days and nights without sleep before finally passing out for almost entire days at a time when exhaustion finally caught up to him.  
They had as many breakthroughs as they had set-backs, and it took them two months of careful experimenting from Dorian and the healers to find a power that helped cleanse Felix, keeping him stable. It was by no means a cure and it would only buy him a little more time, but it was enough.

It was after the first half year of work that the first letters started to arrive from school.  
He wasn’t terribly surprised when he read them; he had dedicated everything to help his master, but it still stung.  
Because he had not reported to any debates, any classes or submitted any work, he had been removed from the list to be considered tested for the title of senior enchanter. He was, they reassured him, still a valued member of the school board and he would be more than welcome to try again, but he would have to start from scratch.  
Everything he had worked so hard for was not thrown away, all because he wanted to help Alexius and Felix.

He didn’t say it, of course. He didn’t want to add to the stress Alexius was under, but Felix knew. Felix, it seemed like, always knew.  
With the help of the powder and constant healing, he was well enough to stand and move around from small periods at a time, and Felix spent that time encouraging Dorian in his work the best he could. He would bring him treats from the kitchen, just like he had when they were younger and Felix had still lived at home, and the gesture was enough to bring a smile to Dorian’s face.

“If you and father can do this, you will have your ticket to that title faster than you can say “Vishante kaffas”,” Felix said with a small grin, which made Dorian laugh as they shared the treats Felix had gotten him and for just a moment, it felt like everything was okay.  
Like they were children again.

Alexius seemed to get encouraged by Felix’s new-found health as well, which was needed as his work were starting to hit more setbacks than breakthroughs.

That’s when Dorian started presenting his own work.

It had taken a lot of time coming to the stage he was at, but Dorian was confident that he was on the right track. He was not close enough to actually cure the blight by any stretch, but Dorian believed he was getting there.  
It had been slow, painstaking; observing the rats as he infected them with the darkspawn blood before trying to blend the spiritual healing magic with necromantic magic. At the start, the rats had only been alive for seconds, but as he practiced, trained and perfected his spells, he was able to keep them alive for minutes, then hours, days and finally weeks. He moved on then from rats to monkeys, needing something closer to a human and that was as close as he could get.  
He took no pleasure in what he was doing; tainting their blood before letting them get as close to death as he could before attempting to bind a healing spirit to their still alive bodies. The main issue was finding a spirit strong enough to sustain a living being without being completely consumed in the process, but weak enough to not take over the body completely.

Admittedly, he was hesitant to show Alexius his research because he wasn’t sure how Felix would take it, both physically and mentally. He had only experimented on animals and while the theories were still the same, a human was vastly different from a rat or even a monkey.  
Still, he presented what he had for his old mentor, show his research and his current result; a monkey that had been brought to the very brink of life and then revived again.

“It is not perfect,” he warned Alexius, swallowing hard as he watched his mentor, trying to guess what he was thinking. “It… It is not complete. I have tried a few times now and this one is the first to have survived for over a month. I have tried monitoring it as closely as I can and while it shows no obvious signs of distress, it’s sluggish and tired.”

“This is what you have been doing when not with me?”

Dorian nodded, somewhat feeling like a naughty child who had been caught playing instead of doing his homework. “Yes. I felt that first and foremost, we needed to buy Felix more time than he had and I believe this is as close as we can get. For the time being.”

“It won’t cure him though.”

“No, there’s… I need more time if I am to work on a complete cure.”

“But it will buy Felix time?”

“Ah…”   
Dorian hesitated for a moment before nodding. “Yes. Yes, I believe it will. He is at a stage that is better than the monkey was so I believe his body will respond more positively to this.”

A part of him wanted for Alexius to say no. 

This was highly experimental and Dorian felt he was stepping on a fine line between what a regular man was supposed to do. He honestly could not guaranty any results except “buying Felix time”, but he knew he needed time to fully document what would or could happen.  
Time they did not have. Time Alexius was desperately trying to get them.

Alexius as he knew him would say no, that it was still too risky. Too unknown. That they needed more time, more experimenting, to do more work to limit or remove any or all risks.

But Alexius said yes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Mors Certa, Hora Incerta - death is certain, its hour is uncertain


	22. Sundering

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Dorian confronts Alexius about Felix.

The theory was there, but as it was with so many things, theories were easier than reality. 

Any idea could become a theory, theories could be explored and tested, but it was only when put to the test that one can find out if the theories held water or it if would sink like a stone.

As expected by Dorian himself, his own theories and hard work had done nothing more than buy Felix more time.   
The taint was, by now, far to spread inside him and while the now bound spirit inside him was holding the taint at bay, he would only have months, maybe a few more years to live, which was more than he would have had.  
He would always need the powder they had created to help purify his system and he would always be sensitive to new illnesses, but he was alive, he was standing, he was functioning and he was in his right mind.

It was much better than anything Dorian had dared hope for.

Dorian had, of course, spoken to Felix before he had done the ritual. He wanted his friend’s consent, wanting him to know exactly what he was going to do and after a night of consideration, Felix had agreed.  
“Not because I have not accepted my fate,” he had whispered to Dorian as he had made the preparations for the ritual. “But because father has not. I can use this time to help him accept it.”

“I hope you succeed where I failed,” Dorian had murmured back before he started.

The ritual itself was slow, with Dorian coaxing several spirits to come from the veil, but by Felix’s request, he did not forcibly bind them to his body. Instead he asked, pleaded, begged for any kind spirit to help his dear friend.  
He didn’t know how or why, but one spirit accepted and with the help of the necromantic spells of binding, Dorian managed to bind the spirit to Felix’s body, leaving it there to help nurture and cleanse the taint as best it could.

The transformation was almost instant.

While Felix had started looking better with the treatment he was receiving, he had still been sickly pale, with slight dark lines where the wound was located on his arm and shoulder. He was thin and his eyes seemed sunken in and his hair had fallen out. At his worse, he had looked more dead than alive.  
Now, just a few days after the ritual had been completed, Felix was looking more alive. While still pale, his cheeks were starting to get a bit of colour back as well as his eyes looking more alive again. His appetite was back and he was able to do things for himself without assistance.

Alexius was ecstatic, but he was also aware that this was a temporary solution based on all of Dorian’s current research.  
They were also at a standstill.

Dorian believed that further research into his own theories would be the most beneficial for everyone, but it would take much longer to reach a conclusion as they would have to do more testing, preferably on humans that were already suffering from the taint.

Alexius however, wanted to continue in his research into time-magic because they were already so close in reaching a definite conclusion.  
Dorian disagreed, believing that even with a focus that the magic needed was too much for any mortal man to handle, but in the end he abandoned his research to continue aiding his mentor. He had already given up everything to be here and, for his own comfort, he had to see it through to the best of his abilities or it would have all been for nothing.

Despite spending all his time with either Alexius or Felix, Dorian felt horribly alone as he continued his work and his research, feeling as if he was doing nothing but slam his head against a rock. Felix was there, of course, but Alexius hardly let him out of his sight, let alone let Dorian and Felix have any time alone together.  
So instead Dorian wrote many letters to his father, asking for advice and providing as many updates as he could about the situation. He somewhat hid the truth though, not wanting to worry his father about the state Alexius was in, so he underplayed it somewhat. He didn’t want another written scolding like he had when his father had found out he had dropped out of school to do this, but thankfully Dorian had managed to somewhat reassure him that with what he had done here, he could easily get his foothold back at the academy.

At least he hoped so.

As he read over the response to his father’s latest letter, Dorian let the tip of his quill tap against the ink-house, hoping that nothing was too revealing.  
He had always been honest in what Alexius was trying, but he had been vague about the details, wanting the matter to stay as private as possible. If word came out about Alexius’ desperation… His sadness and desperation could easily be exploited by someone at the Magisterium.

_“I’m fine, Father. Seriously, you can stop asking._  
Yes, I am still at the estate, and yes, we are still chasing after the same hopeless quest.  
I keep hoping that Alexius will snap out of it. Was it not enough that we found a way to prolong Felix’s life long past what someone with such an illness would normally hope to expect? We’ve given the poor boy years, when not long ago he would have only have had months.   
Instead of spending that time with Felix, Alexius has us chasing the past.   
I gave him the letter you sent, but he waved it away the same way he ignores anything I say … as if I haven’t been here with him, for months and months, staring at the same dead end he is.   
What he wants to do is technically possible, but the power it would require is unachievable and, even if it wasn’t, would rip apart the fabric of time if successful.   
Thankfully there’s been no talk of blood magic.” 

Biting on his bottom lip, Dorian considered what to wipe away from the letter before deciding against it, instead quickly finishing it so it could be sent.

_“Despite what you fear, Father, I yet have hope for him.”_

Because he did. He truly did have hope that he could break through to him, but he had to somehow break the illusion that was clouding his mind first.

He finished the letter with some minor updates on what he had been trying to do and how Felix was doing before he sent the letter off with a messenger, watching the man quickly ride off to before Dorian himself vanished back inside the house.

Taking a moment to himself, Dorian glanced up towards the stairs, in the direction of Alexius’ study. He knew his mentor was there, working tiredly on the focus that had by now taken the shape of an amulet, engraved with runes and empowered by a gemstone made out of pure lyrium that had been covered by glass. It had been dangerous considering how deadly lyrium in its raw form was, but the power of the raw lyrium was perfect for their needs.

Sighing, Dorian returned to his chamber, feeling as if sending that letter had drained him of the very last of his energy.  
He knew he hadn’t taken care of himself very well in the last few months; training, eating, grooming, time for himself… it had all been neglected in favour of helping his mentor.  
After entering his chamber, silently closing and locking the door behind him, Dorian walked over to his dresser to evaluate the damage.

To the untrained eye, he seemed fine, if not a bit tired, but he himself could see the damage. How his normally well-kept hair was just tugged into simple ponytails, the slight scruff on his chin and the length of his moustache. He had lines under his eyes and his normally bronze-tanned skin had turned more pale from days, even weeks of staying indoors.  
If his mother had seen him now, she would have scolded him.

Running his hands over his face, Dorian inhaled deeply, trying his best to empty his mind enough so he could maybe get one decent night of sleep.  
Still, as he removed his silken robes, tunic and breech, he did it slowly, as if they weighed more than they did. When done, he let his nude body fall onto the silken sheets before snuggling against the pillow, embracing it like a long-lost lover. Yet not many seconds passed before Dorian’s mind was spinning with thoughts, ideas, theories. What ifs… So many what ifs…

What if they didn’t succeed?  
What if Alexius would never give up?  
What if Alexius decided to go further?

What if...?

It was with those thoughts resting heavily on his mind that Dorian fell asleep, entering a restless dream full of taunting words and empty promises.

And in the middle of it all was poor Felix.

***

“This has to end.”

The second the words left his mouth, Dorian winced, but he had decided to stand his ground on this a long time ago.  
Several more weeks had passed since his ritual with Felix had taken place and in that time, Alexius had only gotten more and more obsessed with trying to make a breakthrough. At this rate, Dorian truly started to fear for the man and he knew he had to set his foot down.

He had practiced what he wanted to say in front of the mirror for several hours the night before, mentally preparing a list of reasons as to why this was going nowhere and why they should quit while they were ahead.  
He continued practicing as he tended to himself the next morning, making sure to look his best and also his most serious.  
His long black hair brushed and tied back to an elegant ponytail at the base of his neck, with just a few strands of hair loose to frame his face. His eyes outlined with kohl, his scruff shaved away and shaped to a more anchor-shaped style beard as his upper lip and chin was now sporting proper, dark hair.   
As a final touch he put on one of his more proper robes, used in more serious gatherings where one was to show off one’s status and authority rather than their sense of fashion.

Not that the robes weren’t stylish.

Black with golden patterns stitched around the sleeves, neck and front in straight lines, forming geometric shapes that decorated their designated areas.

Of course, clothes and make-up could not make up for the fact that he had never truly stud his ground before. He had avoided, slithered away, made up excused and pushed things to the side since he was a child because he had been taught that he had no say in things anyway. He was to shut up and accept that this was the path he was meant to go.  
Even after he rebelled and ran away, he had been lured back to a more acceptable lifestyle, but the chains were still around his wrists and ankles. The chains were merely longer now and he had yet to feel them hold him back like they had when he was a child.

Now he was standing there, looking at Alexius from across the man’s study, Dorian’s back against the closed door and Alexius behind the large, wooden desk.  
The look of surprise on Alexius face, as if he wasn’t sure that he had heard Dorian correctly brought some courage to Dorian. He could do this.

“You are right,” Alexius said and for the briefest of seconds, Dorian believed that he had already won. It had been that easy.  
“We need to do the lyrium enchantment all over again, I believe we should replace the runes we etched into the stone. Dorian, if you can- “

“No,” Dorian said firmly, pushing himself away from the door and walked towards Alexius. “We need to stop this. This is not going to work. We have already worked miracles as it is, but what we are trying to do… What you are trying to achieve here, for your own selfish gains, it is too dangerous. It is too much. The power alone is not possible for one man to control and even if we do succeed, we don’t know what the results will be.”  
Alexius merely stared at Dorian, too stunned to reply, so Dorian continued. He needed to get it out before Alexius could block him out, needed to try and reach the man he knew was inside the shell that had once been Dorian’s mentor.  
“We have achieved something that nobody else ever has, Alexius. And you should embrace that so you can spend time with your son.”

“I cannot abandon him, not like this. I must fix this,” Alexius replied, a hint of bitterness in his voice.

“Some things cannot be fixed and for all of our achievements, death cannot be conquered,” Dorian replied, sighing some. “We have given something Felix did not have just a few months ago. We have added months, even years to his life. You should spend it wisely.”

“What do you know,” Alexius growled, his hands tightening around a scrap of paper, making it crumble as his fingers curled in to make a fist.  
“You do not know what it is like, Dorian. To lose your wife and only child to something you could have prevented. I refuse to let him go. I will heal him.”

“Listen to yourself,” Dorian pleaded. “You refuse to see the truth, you refuse to see what there is nothing that could have been done. You cannot live on “what if’s”, you must live now!”

“No,” Alexius roared, startling Dorian enough to make him take one step back.  
“I have already lost my wife, I refuse to lose my son! A father should never have to bury their children and damned the Maker, I will correct this mistake!”

“You are losing him now,” Dorian barked back, feeling that his patience was slipping. “You are sitting here, in your office, trying to do the impossible while Felix is alone! You should spend time with him instead of letting him feel guilty for what happened! Guilty because his father refuses to let him go!”  
Dorian knew that he was striking a nerve now, but he wasn’t caring. This had gone on long enough and he knew that there was no turning back anymore.  
“You need to stop chasing the past and focus on the future, Alexius! You should stop this selfish chase of impossible magics and turn your attention where it matters!”

“Selfish?!” Alexius roared, slamming his first hard onto his desk. “What I am seeking can help save lives! Correct errors! Imagine what can be done, we- “

“Bullshit,” Dorian said firmly. “You didn’t have this in mind when you started this! When we first explored the possibilities, we dismissed it as being something we should not tamper with! We are not Gods! You are not doing this for humanity, you are doing this for you! For Felix! And Felix doesn’t even want it, he is ready to die! He does not want to live to be a burden to you, but you are forcing him! He isn’t living because he can, he is living because you want him to and he will forever be tied to you because you are unable to give him up and move on!”

He went too far and he was fully aware of it, but as Alexius face shifted between sorrow and anger, Dorian knew. Alexius knew that Dorian was right, but he wasn’t willing to accept it.

“I love my son,” Alexius growled as he managed to rid his face of the sorrow, only pure, adulterated anger left in his eyes.  
“And if you are not going to help me, then there is no point in you staying here. In fact, there is no point in me helping you.”

Dorian felt his heart skip a beat, his eyes widening for a moment. “Alexius, I- “

“Get out of my house, Pavus. Our work together is done. All of it.”

“Alexius- “

“GET OUT,” Alexius roared, pointing a finger towards the door behind Dorian, said door slamming open from the force of Alexius’ magic.  
“And do not even THINK about speaking to Felix, he does not need to know of your treachery. Do not write him or me! We are done here!”

Dorian felt faint, feeling as if he was about to hyperventilate, but at the last second he was able to slip his mask on. He straightened up, his chin lifted as he stared Alexius down.  
“You will bring nothing but more heart-ache into this family if you continue this, Magister Alexius,” he said, his voice low and hard as he tried to prevent it from shaking.  
“I hope you will find you are looking for in the ruins that will be left.”

And with that, Dorian turned around and left the office, carrying himself with more confidence than he actually felt.  
He had no idea how he was able to get to his room to back and he strongly suspected that he was letting his body do the work automatically while he himself was busy thinking about exactly what had just happened.

He had just tossed everything out the window, hurt his master and his best friend and now… Now he had nowhere to go.  
He couldn’t go home to his parents, not like this. Yes, they would take him in, but because he had used so much time with Alexius, helping him and neglecting his own work, he had lost his standing at school and would start from scratch when the next cycle started and his parents would surely have him married off to Livia before then.

He couldn’t go home. Not yet.  
He needed time to figure out what to do now. He needed a plan.

After packing up his belongings, Dorian rushed out of the room that had once been his, feeling more like a stranger than a family-friend in the once comfortable house.  
It was like he was walking from one daze to the other and in his new daze he was able to see things he hadn’t noticed before, namely how… Quiet the house seemed now.  
The servants were sullen, silent, merely shadows as they silently kept the large, lonely mansion in order.

Dorian wasn’t sure who had ordered the carriage outside, but he couldn’t say he cared either. He merely allowed for the driver to take his belongings while he himself got inside.  
The carriage rocked slightly as the rider took his place on top after storing Dorian’s belongings in the compartment in the back, coughing once before speaking.  
“So, to Qarinus then, lord Pavus?”

“No,” Dorian replied. “Minrathous. I have unfinished business there. Take me to the Gilded Quarter for now. I will instruct you if I change my mind.”

“As you wish, my lord.”

Dorian closed his eyes as he listened to the crack of the driver’s whip, then jolted a little forward as the horses started moving, jolting the carriage into motion, slowly taking away from the house where he had spent the better part of his life.  
He had grown in that house, experienced pain, loss, but also hope and happiness.

Now there was nothing left there but broken memories and a man who could not let go. A man chasing memories, wanting to accomplish the impossible, but in the end would lose everything if he couldn’t let go of the past.

Dorian just hoped that he would be able to.  
That they both would.


	23. Failure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Dorian is too late.

It was almost funny, the way time changed when you had absolutely nothing to go to and nothing to truly live for.  
Oh, he knew he had everything to live for, but he just couldn’t bring himself to care anymore.

He had had everything once, but he had wasted it away on a silly goose-chase because of two men he loved and adored; a man he vowed as a father-figure and a man as close to him as a blood-brother.

Now he was banished from that household with nothing but chains waiting for him if he went home. Everything he had worked so hard for had vanished like smoke and he would be forced to start from scratch, working twice as hard to get the respect and reputation he had once had back because by now, all of his work and ideas would have been copied or simply stolen by others because he had left them half-finished.

Dorian hadn’t meant to end up where he was of course. His plan had been to take a few days off to think about his options, to find a solution to his predicament. The problem was, he was hurt. The entire ordeal had hurt him and he struggled with dealing with it. He had just lost two people who were dear and he didn’t know what to do or who to turn to.  
They had been the people he could talk openly with and now… Now he didn’t have that anymore.

Dorian hadn’t meant for it to happen.   
Hadn’t meant for any of this to happen.

But once he had started, it had been so simple to give into the temptation to just… Forget. Just for a little while.

Drinking wasn’t a foreign concept to him, he remembered the good feelings he got from doing it in the moment. The warm bliss, the haze, the numbing sensation. It felt good, allowing him some time to not think and just… do.   
It had started as a couple of glasses of wine to comfort himself in the evenings as he sat alone at the inn in the Gilded Quarter. The next night, he had added a brandy to the wine and before a week had passed, he had fallen into the haze and comfort that the alcohol provided. Because it was comforting. It was warm, it made him feel giddy and it made him forget.  
Problem was, in the morning, everything came flooding back and he almost immediately got into the habit of drinking to make it go away again.

When the first messenger had come to get him at the Gilded Quarter, Dorian had left for other, less desirable areas of Minrathous.  
He wasn’t ready to face his parents, wasn’t ready to explain himself for what he was doing.

So that’s what he continued doing. He kept drifting, drinking, avoiding everything and everyone except the things he wanted.  
He didn’t want to speak to anyone, he didn’t want good advice and kind words, they wouldn’t help anyway. At least, that’s what he was thinking at the start of his time drinking his pain away.  
He had been right. He had done nothing wrong. Alexius had been the one who had been unreasonable, not him. He had done everything he could for Alexius and Felix, giving up everything for the two of them and had gotten nothing back. For almost two years he had been there, giving up everything, ignoring his duties, his parents, in order to help Alexius and when faced with reason, Alexius had cut him out of his life! Dorian had nothing to feel guilty over, nothing to regret! He had been right.

As time passed however, the determination turned into guilt and sadness.   
Maybe he had been a little unreasonable. The man had lost his wife and was going to lose his son. No parent was to bury their own children, that feeling must have been horrible. He should have been nicer about it, spoken to him more calmly instead of turning so angry… Of course Alexius would feel attacked for wanting to give his son his life back. 

Dorian continued to avoid any messengers and people sent by his family to find him, having all but moved into the slums of Minrathous where he was drinking his coin away.  
He should be ashamed of it and he was aware of it, but he just didn’t care. It was his money and it wasn’t like he had anywhere to go anyway.

With the drinking came sexual encounters with more men than Dorian could remember. Mostly sailors and workers because the chance of bumping into them was slimmer than if he went for someone of higher status. Not that he really cared about status and honour right now. All he knew was that he was hurting, he was confused and the booze and sex helped.  
It was distracting.

He kept it somewhat discreet of course, but not because he was afraid of making a spectacle. He was afraid that his family would find him.  
He moved locations often, switching between inns in the slums of Minrathous and kept himself on the low. He wore simpler clothing to make sure he was just “one amongst many” in the crowd and kept his long hair loose to hide his face somewhat. When he was out, he made sure he had his hood over his head, no matter how hot the day or night was.

Dorian wasn’t sure when his tipping-point happened since the only thing he could think about was Felix and Alexius. He would admit to himself that his concern was more towards Felix rather than his old mentor, but he was concerned for him as well.  
But when rumours had started to spread that Magister Alexius had not shown up to join any official meetings at the Magisterium, which was unheard off, Dorian took more of a listen to things. There was also word that the city of Kirkwall was in unrest as apparently one rebel mage had taken it upon himself to blow up the city chantry, killing the Revered Mother.  
Tevinter, unsurprisingly, found it to be a good thing. They had never viewed the South’s treatment of mages in a favourable light and if this was the start of change, it could only be good for them in more reasons than one. It the South got into disarray, their defences would be lowered and that could mean chances for Tevinter.

Dorian hadn’t really listened much, still being too busy wallowing in his own self-pity until realisation came to him. He had been half-done with a mug of cheap ale, head supported up his hand as he studied the piss-coloured liquid as if it held all the answers he was looking for.  
It was when he drank from it that Dorian started thinking about what he was doing to himself. 

He had spent months, literally months, drifting and avoiding everything and everybody, hoping that he could drink himself into oblivious and wake up to a world that was more familiar to him.  
Instead the world was changing and now his old mentor was hiding away. Just like he himself was hiding away.

Dorian had wasted months on doing nothing and if he kept doing so, he would end up with less than nothing.  
Had not Alexius said that he was better than this? That he could do anything he set his mind to? That the only one he had to impress was himself?

Dorian certainly wasn’t impressing himself now and if Alexius had seen him now…

Except the chance was great that Alexius was doing the same thing. Wallowing in his own grief, desperately chasing dreams. Maybe Felix was even dead now and Dorian would be none the wiser.

Someone had to do something.

Someone had to reach out to him and that someone had to be Dorian.  
He had been too harsh, to fast with his first attempt, but there was still time to do something about the situation. If he could reconcile with Alexius, speak to him, then maybe there was still a chance…

He just hoped he wouldn’t be too late.

***

He was too late.

Dorian had spent the better part of a week, needing to gather money and clean himself up before he took the long journey back to Asariel. He was running low on his own savings, but he took a chance and used his birth-right at one of the local banks so he could take out some of his family’s money, intending to replace it.  
Besides, it was such a small sum that it wouldn’t be missed and by the time his father was notified where Dorian had withdrawn them money from, Dorian would be long gone from the area.

He had arranged for his belongings from the old apartment at the Circle to be shipped to Asariel as well, intending to show his famous stubborn side to his old mentor.  
He was not going to leave.

At least, that was his intention until he actually arrived at the Alexius mansion.

He had a bad feeling the second he stepped out of the carriage, staring up at the dark, quiet house. He could see the window to Alexius’ study from the front and that too was dark; a good indication that nobody was there. For as long as he had stayed with his old mentor, there was always a light in that window and not seeing it now… it was disheartening.  
Still, he had come too far to give up now and with a confident stride, he walked up the path to the house and used the large knocker on the door. He could hear the echoes from the metal hitting the wood resonate inside the house, but after several long seconds, nothing was heard.  
Nobody was coming to open the door.

Dorian didn’t give up and tried knocking again, doing it harder this time before waiting, praying that someone would come.

Nobody did.

After a few more futile attempts, Dorian admitted the defeat and headed back down to the carriage, not willing to look at the driver.

“Seems like nobody is home, my lord,” the driver said as he looked up at the dark house.  
“Do you want me to take you downtown?”

“Yes, please,” Dorian said as he climbed back up into the carrier.   
“I assume you don’t happen to know what has happened with the master of the house?”

“Afraid not, my lord,” the driver said before cracking his whip, encouraging the horses to start moving again. “But I am sure someone downtown will know what has happened to them.”

Dorian nodded, pinching the bridge between his eyes as he leaned back against his seat. He was feeling a headache coming up and he longed for a proper drink. “Yes, thank you. Take me to the inn, will you?”

“I assume you want the finest one, my lord?”

“I want whichever is more likely to provide me with a few answers, so if that is the finer one, then yes.”

“Of course, my lord.”  
The driver felt silent after that, which Dorian was grateful for. All the courage he had come with was rapidly draining away, leaving him with a sense of being lost, and the last thing he wanted was to hold a conversation.  
The trip down to the town didn’t take long and before the evening had set in, Dorian found himself in a nice, warm room, resisting the urge to just fall into the very soft-looking bed. He had to see if he could find out more about where Alexius had gone to and for how long.

Knowing that Alexius probably hadn’t gone to the town personally, he hoped that the stores might have some information as Alexius’ servants must have come down to get supplies or have supplies sent up to the mansion. He also knew he had to show some authority while looking for information so he made sure that his birth-right was visible, hoping it would be enough to get some answers.  
Heading towards the local shops, Dorian tried his best in fishing out information, but the shopkeepers didn’t know anything specific. All they knew is that they sent weekly supplies up to the mansion, but then were notified that they did no longer needed the supplies and that their agreements were concluded with a final payment of the last shipping received.

Dorian tried his luck with three different shops before giving up, heading down to the stables instead.  
It was getting dark by the time he got there, but the stable-keeper was still up, tending to his horses.  
“Evening,” Dorian called out, noting down that the stable-keeper was a young, rather handsome looking man. Tall, rugged, a stubble covering the square chin and jawline and with a mop of dark, short hair to compliment the sun-kissed, dark skin.  
Just to Dorian’s taste.  
Quickly showing the thoughts aside, Dorian returned the focus to the task at hand. “I hear rumours that you are the place to go for good, strong horses and good carriages?”

“Right you are, my lord,” the man answered, his thick Antivan accent shining through as he spoke.  
“We keep and tend to most horses here, and we offer services to the Lords and Ladies that live in this area.”

“Wonderful,” Dorian said while looking towards the horse the man had tended to; a large beast, brown in colour and with a short-cropped mane.  
“Then perhaps you can answer some questions that are severely bothering me.”

“I can certainly try my best,” the keeper said, drying off his hands with a piece of cloth.  
“What can I do for you, my lord?”

“Well, I am here to visit a friend who has not been very sociable these last few weeks. Gereon Alexius.”

“Ah yes, the Alexius family,” the keeper said, nodding his head. “Tragedy that, with his lovely wife dying and his son being sick. We used to see them here from time to time, always so nice and polite.”

“So you knew them?”

“Not personally, if that’s what you’re asking, my lord. I’ve been up there a few times, tending to their horses or fixing their carriages, and they never treated me with anything else but respect and kindness.”

“And have you been up there recently?”

The man shook his head some. “Afraid not, my lord. About a month ago, the lord summoned me to purchase our largest carriage and our strongest horses. Didn’t say why or for what, but it is not in my place to ask.”

“So, you just delivered them and that was that?”

The man nodded his head. “Afraid so, my lord. But I believe he was either going on a long trip or moving. There were many people there, packing and carrying things.”

Dorian frowned some. “Do you know if they were his slaves or of they were hired men?”

“Definitely slaves, my lord,” the keeper said. “But not his. They were-,” he started, then hesitated some, as if afraid that Dorian would strike him down. “It is not in my place to say how to treat one’s own property, but they were quite… thin. And looked scared,” he finished carefully.

That made Dorian frown harder, rubbing his hand over his chin as he digested this new knowledge. “That does indeed sound weird,” he murmured before he gave the man a now and a smile. “Thank you kindly, for your information. You have been most helpful,” he said, digging into his purse so he could offer the man some coins.

“Well, thank you kindly, my lord,” the keeper said, accepting the coins. “I hope you find master Alexius and that everything is well.”

“So do I, my good man. So do I.”

Dorian decided to call it a night and after thanking the stable-keeper again, heading back towards the Inn so he could rest.  
Whatever had happened to his master, he had clearly left in secret, not letting anyone know where he had gone or why. Maybe he was on another wild goose-chase, maybe he was hoping to meet and speak to the Wardens somewhere himself.  
Heck, for all Dorian knew, Alexius might have gotten an answer from the Wardens after Dorian had left.

In a way, Dorian hoped that that was the truth, but there was still that uncertainty. It would be other reasons as to why Alexius had decided to pack up and leave, and the biggest reasons as to why could be the death of Felix.

If Felix had died… 

Dorian didn’t want to think about it. All he knew if that was the case, then he was too late.

There was nothing more he could do.  
He was simply too late.


	24. Debauchery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Dorian decides to fuck it all.

The belief that he had utterly and completely failed his master by coming back too late to reconcile with him had done something to Dorian.

He wasn’t sure exactly what it was; if he simply didn’t care or if he had just given up on everything, but he went back to Minrathous, picking up from where he had left it to an even greater extent. And this time, he didn’t give a damn about who saw him and what he did.  
All he knew is that… it didn’t matter anymore. He was angry, he was hurting, he was lost and confused, and if he went home, then he would all but surrender himself to a life of absolute misery and grief.   
He would be the son who dropped out of an important position at the Circle, the underdog with no colleagues because he thought differently than the others. Married to a woman he would never be able to love, never be able to please and, at best, he would be her arm-candy.  
A prised stallion who would be unable to be used for mating.  
And while his parents and his future wife nagged and prodded him about impregnating her, he would sit there and nod. Nod and wait until his father died so he could take over his position in the Magisterium, a position he didn’t even want.

That would be his life.

He would be living a lie for the rest of his life.  
A lie that would eventually kill him.

No.  
He just couldn’t live that sort of life. Trapped in a gilded cage, trapped in himself, screaming on the inside, clawing to get back on the outside.  
No, if he was going to die, then he would die doing it his way and he could might as well die having some fun.

He hadn’t cared about doing it gradually.   
Once he was back in Minrathous, he went to one of his favourite taverns and ordered himself a bottle of wine to start with, and he hadn’t stopped with one. He drank until he saw double and once he saw double of a very attractive man, he seduced him and took him back to the inn he was staying at for a night of pleasure, not caring who saw him.  
In fact, he wanted people to see him.

Dorian Pavus, son of Halward Pavus, drinking and fucking around as he damned well pleased without a care in the fucking world.  
After all, what did he have going for him? He had no friends, no allies, no real status of his own except being the “son of a Magister” and there was nothing, nothing that he had done that he could be proud off.  
He was a tool, he was weak and he was flawed.   
It was easier to fall into the temptation of just absolutely surrendering himself to the alcohol and the pleasure because maybe, just maybe, the pain would go away.  
He could live with the shame, but the pain...? He wasn’t sure he could handle that one.

This… This was just easier and, if he was lucky, the alcohol would kill him before some sort of robber would.  
At least then he would die without thinking or feeling anything.

It didn’t take long before he was the talk of the town and the rumours… To Dorian’s surprise, they were tame. They weren’t positive no, but they weren’t negative either, at least not those he heard.  
People described him as a “dangerously free spirit”, which Dorian guessed was fancy-talk for someone with breeches looser than those of a whore’s, but he didn’t care.   
He wasn’t sure when the shift happened, but he welcomed it with open arms as men started approaching him instead of the other way around. He would drink and eat with them, laugh with them and come home with them for a round or two in the hay.  
Some asked him to stay, but he never did. He always, always left before dawn because he didn’t want to look at the night’s conquest. Not because he was afraid he had dragged him something that was more darkspawn than human, but because he couldn’t bare himself to.  
He was living a fantasy and looking at it with clearer eyes, the haze of alcohol lifted from his mind… It made it too real.

Because this wasn’t who he was at the same time as it was.  
He had been a rebel. A scholar. A scientist and a researcher. Now he was lower than a whore because he didn’t take any payment except for alcohol and food.

He wished he would care.

He got several messages from people saying they wanted to speak to him. He thought he recalled a few notes from Magister Tilani and even a letter from Rilenius, but he ignored them.  
He didn’t want to speak to either one of them.  
The letters from his family immediately went into the fire as he didn’t even want to see what they contained. Probably more angry words and demands for him to come home.

Before long, his own private savings had started to dry out, but by then, Dorian was in a state of simply not caring. He didn’t think about the days to come, he only cared about here and now. He was alive right now and he had needs right now.  
Tomorrow would bring whatever it did tomorrow.

Despite the sudden lack of money, Dorian found that he had no trouble getting exactly what he wanted whenever he wanted.  
Not that his demands or needs were very high or even expensive.  
In a way, he suddenly had more of an understanding when it came to the seductresses and suave gentlemen, playing their victims until they got what they wanted from them. It was exactly what Dorian was doing, but unlike them, he didn’t play with the hearts of his victims. He was simple in his demands and he laid it out clear. It was sex, nothing more.  
He knew that he could count his blessings that he was as handsome as he was. He was a beauty; he was young, he was fit, with lean muscles and soft, unmarred skin. He was flexible thanks to his training and he was willing.  
He was perfect.

And Dorian had to admit, it made him feel good. He was wanted and he had a different power than before. Yes, he submitted his body more often than not, wanting his “victims” to do the job so he could just enjoy the ride, but he was hardly passive. He was aggressive, taking what he wanted and he made damn sure that he reached his own, satisfying end.

As time went by, Dorian became less careful. He was still successfully avoiding messengers and henchmen sent by his parents, helpfully tipped off by the tavern’s owners or his more frequent partners, but he was still leaving trails as to where he went.  
He lived as he was in a permanent daze; unfazed, uncaring, taking it as it came.

That’s when he met the son of Lord Ulia Abrexis.

Lord Abrexis wasn’t a Magister, but he was wealthy and he was eager to please the Magisterium by throwing large parties in support of whoever Magister he was trying to please that week. Dorian had attended one of his parties and while it had been a lavished one, it had been dull and uneventful.  
Of course, nothing could top the party where the Archon had shown up, killing one Magister and then leaving before the dance was even over.  
Lord Abrexis party had had one interesting thing though and that was his son.   
Tall, handsome, not very gifted in magic or brains, but Braxin Abrexis had gorgeous brown eyes, tanned skin and a muscled body that was simply to die for. They hadn’t spoken with one another, but the looks they had shared…

Dorian hadn’t expected to see Lord Braxin Abrexis again, but their eyes had met as Dorian had been busy polishing off his second or third glass of wine for the evening, drinking away the night in a dark pub near the Minrathous docks.  
Seeing Braxin here was a surprise in itself, but for him to approach him was an even bigger surprise.

“So… It is true then.”

“Depends on what truth you have heard,” Dorian replied, smirking some as he downed the last of his wine, then set his glass away. “Share and I can either confirm or deny.”

Braxin didn’t say anything about it. Instead he smiled and sat down next to Dorian, nodding at the innkeeper. “Two more of whatever he had.” After glancing at Dorian, he smirked and winked. “On me, of course.”

“Ah, you are already speaking my language,” Dorian murmured, his mind already a little foggy from the strong wine, but far from drunk. “I knew I liked you, Lord Abrexis.”

“Call me Braxin.”

“We shall see if I do, as the evening progresses,” Dorian murmured, accepting the wine as it was offered to him by the bartender.  
“Now… You had heard some rumours about me?”

“I had indeed. Some rather unflattering ones. That the great Altus had fallen from grace and was now selling his body as some common whore?”

Dorian let out a laugh before taking a deep gulp from his wine. “My dear Lord Abrexis,” he chuckled, licking his lips slowly to get the droplets of wine from them.  
“I can assure you, I do not sell anything, let alone my body. By selling something, one implies that currency is exchanged between two or more hands.”  
He took another gulp from his wine, savouring the taste of the rich, red liquid as it filled his mouth. He paused, letting Lord Braxin wait while he enjoyed himself before letting his gaze fall back onto the young man.  
“I, on the other hand, am having fun and I am refusing to hide it nor be ashamed of it. I have been silent for far too long and I am here now, in the open and showing off my feathers. And if my… Ah. Company insists on treating me to food or drink, then who am I to say no? My family did not raise a barbarian, it is rude to refuse gifts.”

He almost believed it himself, the words that came flowing out of his mouth. They spoke of truth he wasn’t sure he believed in, of courage he didn’t have and of confidence he had never known.  
But he didn’t need to believe it as long as the others did.

Braxin just chuckled and nipped at his own wine, eyes roaming heavily over Dorian. “I see. That is… admirable. Yes, I admire it.”

“I am something to admire,” Dorian replied, his own eyes trying to meet and challenge Braxin.

“You are indeed,” Braxin murmured before lowering his voice.  
“You know, Lord Pavus… You have always been on the tip of people’s tongue, for more reason than one. And the work you accomplished while still in the circle was… Impressive.”

“One of my many talents. I am quite… Impressive. In so many ways.”

“Of that I do not doubt,” Braxin chuckled before continuing. “My father is… away, for a little while. Leaving me in charge of the household.”

“And?” Dorian asked, raising an eyebrow even though he knew what Braxin was implying.

“And I was wondering if you would like to… spend a few days there. We can speak more, of your accomplishments and such. Get to know one another, as two lords and gentlemen.”

Dorian knew very well what they meant.   
This was an invitation for them to seek refuge in a more private place where they could drink and fuck to their hearts content without worrying about their reputation or anyone seeing them.  
Now how could he refuse such a grand invitation?

“I assume I will be fed and watered if I accept your most… Generous invitation?” Dorian asked with a small grin.

“I can assure you, I will accommodate all of your needs, as your host. After all, I am inviting you to be my guest,” Lord Braxin replied, his own grin mirroring Dorian’s.

“My, my,” Dorian hummed, running his finger over the rim of his wine-glass. “I did not think you had that in you, Lord Braxin. Colour me surprised.”

“There are much you don’t know about me, Lord Pavus,” Braxin replied. “Perhaps we can both find out… A little bit more about one another? As gentlemen, of course.”

“As gentlemen,” Dorian echoed, his eyes sparkling with interest as he let his foot gently bump, then slide over Braxin’s.  
“Well, consider my interest tickled and your offer accepted. You are right, we should get to know one another. For future reference, of course. It is important to uphold good relations with one another, yes?”

“Of course,” Braxin replied as he stood up, gesturing his hand towards the exit. “Shall we? I can have my carriage come here in but a few minutes.”

“Lets. I believe our business here has been concluded for now,” Dorian agreed as he stood up, letting his arm brush against Braxin’s arm as he passed him.  
“I am looking forward to further… Discussions at your home.”

The knowing smirk that appeared on Braxin’s face told Dorian that he too was very much looking forward to it.


	25. House-Arrest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Dorian's brought back to reality and his wings get clipped.

Dorian couldn’t really remember exactly what had happened. The last couple of days has been a blur, a mix of alcohol, fine food and sex.  
Oh, there had been so much sex.

Lord Braxin had truly upheld his end of the “agreement” and treated Dorian to everything and anything. Dorian had suspected that the man was experimenting, perhaps testing the waters on what he preferred gender-wise, and Dorian certainly wasn’t complaining. In fact, he was more than happy to let Braxin explore, encouraging him with sweet words and moans of passion. Calculated moans, of course; Dorian didn’t want to be loud. A habit he had picked up long ago that he found was hard to get rid of.

The explorations became an almost regular thing as Lord Braxin’s father was often away and when he was, Braxin often invited Dorian to their estate for “pleasant company” and “discussion” which simply translated to wine, food and fucking.  
It would be the closest thing to partnership that Dorian had had since his failed adventures with Cassien, but Dorian was careful to not bring emotions into it. It was purely physical and he made sure it stayed that way. He wasn’t going to let himself get hurt like that again.

He probably should have realised that their relations would be noticed. Or to be more precise, he should have cared about it. They weren’t exactly subtle about it, not really.   
Every time Lord Ulia Abrexis left his estate, Braxin would come to Minrathous to pick Dorian, letting him stay for a few days before returning him. They didn’t speak about it, but Dorian had become careless in his flirting with Braxin, his intentions clear in his not-so-carefully selected words.

It had only been a matter of time before someone from his family was going to find him.  
The last thing he could remember with somewhat clarity was being in Braxin’s embrace, riding him hard, kissing him, feeling him, taking him all in as he was filled up from the inside, high on sex and on alcohol.  
The rest was a bit hazy, but he remembered shouting… He remembered pain. And he remembered blood… Maker, there had been so much blood and he couldn’t tell who it belonged to.

He had been kept in the dark, literally and figuratively, gagged and blindfolded as rough hands had manhandled him from one place to the next, only letting him free when he needed the privy or needed to eat. Or rather, when they forced him to eat. Those actions alone told him that whoever was behind this wanted him alive and somewhat well, but he couldn’t for the life figure out who could be behind it.  
Thinking, he discovered, was hard, as his hands were chained in mana-draining cuffs and there was a constant scent of flowery incense surrounding him, keeping him unfocused and drowsy. He couldn’t fight and he was too drugged to even care about it.  
Time blended together when he was forcefully removed from whatever room he was kept in, transported from one place to the next. He knew some of the trip had been at sea at the very least. The sea had never agreed with him and a classic tell-tale sign of just how poorly he did at sea was his stomach. Or rather, he had thrown up and almost choked on his own vomit before his captures had found him and cleaned him up.  
In a way, he wished they hadn’t. If he had died, then he didn’t have to worry anymore.

Dorian had no idea where he was, how much time had passed or even what time of the day it was when he finally woke up. His body was aching, he felt weak and sore, and just the simple task of opening his eyes left him groaning in pain.  
That is when he noticed how… Soft his new location felt.  
Soft and it smelt nice… Familiar.

“Oh no…”

Dorian didn’t need eyes to see it for himself. He knew where he was. The question was for what reason. Had he been sold back? Rescued?  
There was a bad feeling gnawing in his stomach and he felt unsettled. Trapped. He wondered if this was how a caged animal felt like or if this was merely him.

Time slowly went by and he remained alone in the room. The curtains were drawn so he did not know if it was day or night, and he still felt too weak to move. So he slept, trying to regain a sense of self as he did so.

When Dorian next woke up he was greeted by the appearance of his father, but there was no relief on the man’s face. No kindness. Only stone-cold anger.  
“Dorian.”

“Good morning, father,” Dorian replied, his voice rough and hoarse from sleep. “I will be honest; I did not expect to see you here.”  
Dorian had no idea how he managed to sound so calm, so cold himself, when on the inside he was freaking out, but there it was. The carefully crafted Pavus mask. It was like he had never left it; it still fitted perfectly over his face.

“I suspected as much,” Halward replied, his voice still cold. Still calm.  
It unnerved Dorian to no end.  
“Do you know what you have done, Dorian? Do you know what vile rumours are going on now?”

“I am sure you are about to enlighten me, father,” Dorian drawled, still fighting the feeling of fatigue.

“Master Dorian Pavus, the whore. The drunkard. The loudmouth. The… The vile sodomiser. Pervert. Degenerate. The list goes on, Dorian!”

Dorian couldn’t help himself. He let out a snort and grinned lazily towards his father. “And?”

“Your actions have had serious consequences,” Halward said strictly. “Do you know what we have lost? What I have had to do to try and contain this? Our reputation- “

“Our reputation,” Dorian sneered as he sat up on the bed, feeling a wave of nausea go through his body. “Is that the only thing you care about? Our reputation? What about me, father?! What about how I feel?”

“You have no right to speak,” Halward barked back, his voice hardening. “You are the one who brought the mess to the family name!”

“Bullshit,” Dorian yelled, then let out a strangled gasp as he felt a tremor go through his body. He quickly wrapped his arms around himself, feeling as if someone had just dunked cold water over him. That’s when he felt it. The hard metal pressing against his upper arm as his hands clenched at his own biceps.   
Still trembling, he lifted his hand up so he could see the cold steel that gleamed in the faint light, the traces of glowing runes winking at him. “… you didn’t.”

“You are out of control, Dorian,” Halward replied, his voice back to the calm, icy tone he’d had when he first came into the room.  
“And we need to fix it. You are not to leave this house until we find a way to clean up this mess.”

“So you are going to keep me here,” Dorian asked, eyes wide and his chest heaving after air. “You are trapping me?”

“I am doing what must be done,” Halward replied, looking away from his son as he turned to head out of the room. “I am doing what is best for you, Dorian.”

Dorian felt something snap inside him as he watched his father leave the room. He let out a yell as he lunged from the bed, his hands flailing as he desperately tried to cast a spell, only to feel that cold surge inside him from the cuffs. He landed on the hard wooden floor with a thud as his legs refused to support his weight, gasping as he felt his body tremble with fatigue and pain.  
“Y-you can’t do this,” he managed to gasp out, lifting his head so he could look at his father’s retreating back.  
Halward didn’t answer; he didn’t even look at Dorian as he opened the door and slipped outside. The sound of the door locking almost echoed in the now silent bedroom, leaving Dorian gasping for air as he stared at his bedroom door with an almost bewildered look. Then he let out a yell of anger as he got back onto his feet, stumbling, then crashing into the door before he started slamming his hands hard against the wooden surface. “You cannot do this!” he yelled, his voice hoarse and desperate. “Father! Father, you cannot do this!”

There were no answers to his desperate cries and knocking, but he didn’t give up. Instead he looked around, feeling desperation fill his mind. He had to get out of here.  
He stumbled over to the bedroom window and yanked the curtains up, placing a hand over the smooth glass surface. He tried the lock first, pushing, tugging and even hitting it hard enough to draw blood from his fingers. When that didn’t work, he pulled away, eyes wide with desperation as he looked around the room, trying to find a different solution.  
It was hard to think, he was still trying to wrap his mind around the situation and he just felt… Empty. Trapped. He felt robbed, betrayed and there was nothing he could do about it.  
With an angry yell, Dorian grabbed the chair that was by his dresser, tossing it towards the window. He didn’t care if it was a long way down, he would crawl to safety if he had to or die trying!  
When the chair bounced off the glass, he felt the last of the fight just drain out of him. Of course… Of course his father wouldn’t forget something so simple as the window. As he approached the window in almost disbelief, he could sense the enchantments and he cursed himself for not noticing before.

Trapped. He was trapped; a prisoner in his own home.

Sinking down to his hands and knees, Dorian let out a sob, feeling the tears as they started pouring from his eyes. Then he screamed. It was raw, desperate, from the heart. He hugged his arms around himself and started rocking back and forward while on his knees as the vails tore themselves free from his throat, his cheeks wet with salty tears.  
He cried and screamed until his head hurt and his throat felt raw before the reality finally sunk in. And with reality came all the thoughts that he had desperately tried to suppress by drowning himself in worldly pleasures.

He had lost.  
He had finally gone too far and he had lost.  
He had lost _everything_ and now… now he had nothing left.

And it was all his own fault.


	26. Betrayal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Dorian wants to believe...

Dorian wasn’t sure when he had given up, but he knew it didn’t take long before he did.  
He had tried to be defiant, out of principle rather than actual hope that he would make his father change his mind, but he just didn’t have the will or energy to keep it up.  
He refused to accept the situation, refused to look at his father, but he complied as much as he could while trying to think of a way to solve his… predicament.

His father, naturally, had ideas of his own. They spoke, or rather he spoke, often about Dorian’s future. About what they had to do to repair what had happened, what Dorian had to do to show what a good man he was.  
He would come into Dorian’s room on most evenings, just to speak about what was going on. He never asked Dorian how he was doing and Dorian never spoke back. He merely stared at Halward, his face unreadable. Listening, but not contributing.

He was told of the new rumours that were spread to cover over the ones that existed, blaming illness, sadness over the loss of the Alexius-family, exploitation of a grieving soul; everything and anything to shift the blame away from Dorian and to someone else.  
Even if Dorian could protest it, he wasn’t sure what good it would do so when his father gave him updates, he merely shrugged and replied with a dry “How wonderful”, if even that. In truth, he just didn’t care because he knew that he had no say in it anyway. He was a prisoner in his own childhood home, isolated and trapped inside the house with no contact to the outside world.  
His father would tell him that he received letters from time to time; well-wishes for a speedy recovery, inquiries about how he was doing, updates on what was going on, but Dorian would never see the letters themselves. His father took it upon himself to pen them a response, brief and to the point, keeping every letter as un-personal as he could.

Dorian had protested that at first as well, of course, just like he had protested everything, but he soon realised that there was nothing he could do.  
He was kept in his room, shackled with mana-draining cuffs and surrounded by enchantments that prevented him from breaking out. They had made the mistake of leaving him with a mirror, something Dorian had smashed out of anger in the early days of his entrapment. He had considered ending it then, bringing a shard of glass to his throat, but in the end he hadn’t been able to; too afraid of the pain and what would wait for him on the other side if he did. The noise had not gone unnoticed and servants had flooded into his room mere moments later, removing the shard, healing his bloodied and cut-up hands, and replacing the mirror with a new, enchanted one.

Because the Maker forbid that Dorian would be denied the pleasure of his own reflection.

Meals were brought in by a servant, his chamber pot emptied thrice a day and the only company he had was himself, save from the times his father came to speak to him.

It was pure agony.

With the isolation and complete lack of freedom Dorian found himself slowly giving up.  
He because quiet, obedient, not speaking unless spoken to and keeping himself calm and collected. When he looked at himself in the mirror, Dorian found it hard to even recognise himself. Yes, he tended to himself as he had very little else to do, but his eyes were dull, there were dark circles under his eyes and he looked thin. Pale. A walking corpse more than a man.

Time was completely lost on him and he couldn’t remember the last time he had actually felt the sun on his skin.  
At this rate, he was little more than a husk. He just happened to still be alive.

It was late one night when the door to his bedroom door opened and a familiar figure came into the room.  
“Misha?”

The elfen servant placed her finger against her lips before approaching Dorian, smiling softly as she carried a small tray. “Be quiet, my Lord. I am sure your mother or father would not approve of me being here, but you have been alone for so long now, my heart could not take it anymore.”

“Don’t be silly, Misha,” Dorian scolded, frowning some. “Do not get into trouble on my behalf.”

“Nonsense,” Misha said before placing the tray down onto the table. She removed the cloth covering it, revealing a plate with cookies and a glass with red wine.  
“It is not much, Master Dorian, but I remembered how fond you were of these little treats when you were younger,” she murmured, smiling warmly at Dorian. “I hope they can bring you at least a little bit of comfort until…” She trailed off as she bit her bottom lip, eyes cast downwards.

“… What is he planning,” Dorian asked, his voice low, hoarse. “Do you know?”

“Afraid not, master Dorian,” Misha said. “He sends many letters and for the last week, he has been away to Minrathous.”

“Probably trying to wipe away the shame with money,” Dorian snorted before smiling some, reaching out to take one of the offered cookies, picking one up. It was still warm to the touch and when Dorian bit into it, he felt the soft, slightly moist centre as he chewed on it.   
“Thank you,” he murmured softly. “For bringing them to me. Please, share one with me.”

Misha hesitated for a moment before smiling, nodding as she took one of the cookies from the tray. “Thank you, master Dorian,” she murmured before biting into the cookie, chewing on it slowly as she savoured the taste.

“How long do you have before mother will grow suspicious of your absence,” Dorian asked while taking the wineglass, taking a small sip from it.

“I believe I have an hour or two to spare.”

Then, would you entertain me with a round of chess?”

“I would be delighted, master Dorian.”

***

It had been the only thing Dorian had looked forward to. The only thing that had brought him a little joy, made him remember that he was alive. That there was someone out there who cared enough to defy his father and mother, just to bring him some comfort.

He should have known it would not last.  
He should have known that the punishment for such obvious insolence and disobedience would be grand, but he had expected to be the one to pay the price.

He should have told her to stop, but the temptation for comfort, for contact with another person, for conversation and just a glimmer of happiness had been too much.

He should have known.  
He should have known better.

He should have seen it on her face, in her eyes as she carefully opened the door to his room, giving Dorian a careful smile as she carried in the usual small tray with treats.  
She didn’t do it often, only once or twice a week over the last few months, but Dorian had treasured it all the same.  
This night had seemed no different. It had been a while since her last visit and he did not think about it as she came into the room, closing the door behind her before approaching Dorian by the window.

“No cookies tonight, Master Dorian, but I hope some kheer will be okay.”

“It is a warm night tonight. Kheer will be welcome,” Dorian replied, smiling as he watched Misha put the plate down onto the table by the window, letting Dorian see the treat. A simple desert, a pudding-like treat made from rice, milk, sugar and dried fruit, but enjoyable in all its simplicity. A childhood favourite.

“Freshly made, master Dorian.”

“Of that I have no doubt. You continue to spoil me,” Dorian said as he sat down. “Will you keep me company?”

“Of course, master Dorian.”  
Misha smiled and carefully sat down onto the chair across from Dorian, watching as he picked up the spoon and scooped up some of the creamy pudding. She said nothing as she watched Dorian eat it, though she smiled a little from the pleased noises Dorian made. “I am glad you liked it, master Dorian.”

“You, my dear, have never failed in making my taste-buds dance with joy,” Dorian smiled, happily scooping up more kheer before eating it.  
Misha didn’t respond, merely smiled as Dorian continued to eat, watching him with a distant look in her eyes.  
Dorian paused, gently placing his spoon back into the bowl. “Are you alright, Misha? You seem distant tonight.”

“It is nothing, master Dorian,” Misha replied and it was only then Dorian noticed how… flat her voice was.

“Misha?” Dorian said as he carefully reached his hand towards her. His fingers accidentally knocked at the stem of his glass, which made him frown, halting his movements. When had his hand started to feel so… heavy?  
“Misha,” he asked again, looking up at her before realising that her appearance seemed… blurred.  
“What… What was in that-“ he started as a sudden feeling of nausea spread through his body, his vision blurring more and more. He tried standing, only to fall over onto his side, his body feeling as if it was cramping up. “M-Misha…”

“Everything is fine, master Dorian,” Misha replied as she stood up, walking over to Dorian before kneeling down. “Just relax.”

“W-why,” he asked, desperately trying to figure out what was happening. Was he poisoned? Drugged? What for? Why? The elfen servant had been like a second mother to him since childhood, why would she do this to him?  
That’s when he saw it. The red rim around her eyes, barely visible as she leaned in closer to stroke his hair away from his face. And he could see the tears that welled up in her eyes, a clear sign of the internal struggle inside her.  
She was being controlled. Controlled by blood magic.

“M-Misha…” he gasped again as his eyes finally fogged out, leaving him in a daze as he felt darkness starting to slip over his mind.

“Everything will be okay,” Misha replied in the same flat voice, her true feelings betrayed by the tears that were running down her cheeks. Her hand kept stroking his hair back, as if she wanted to soothe him. Just like when he was a child, waking up from fade-created nightmares with cries for his parents, tears running down his own cheeks.   
She had comforted him then, come to him and laid with him in bed, taking him onto her lap and stroking his hair as she hummed for him. Whispering sweet, comforting words until he fell back asleep again, making him feel safe.  
“Your father will make everything better now.”

He wanted to believe her.  
But he couldn’t.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a small update inbetween all the real life stuff that has been going on. Work has been whooping my ass lately. X.x I apologize for being so damn slow now.


	27. “What is Best for You”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Dorian experiences true betrayal.

The smell of incense was thick and heavy in the air, making Dorian’s already throbbing head hurt more as he slowly came back to himself. It was a small blessing that the room he was in was dark, but the fact that he was laying on a blanket on the hard, stone floor cancelled out that rather quickly.

Groaning, Dorian carefully managed to turn himself around so he was on his side, using his elbow to prop himself up while touching his head with his free hand.  
He was having trouble remembering what had happened, his last clear memory being of him inside his bedroom. Exactly what had happened after..? He could remember something sweet… A precious memory… Big, teary eyes and a soft, caring hand going through his hair.

Squinting his eyes some, Dorian allowed himself a moment to shake off the dizziness before he looked around the dark room.  
Several candles were lit along with a large bowl of incense placed on a small table by Dorian’s legs, the sticks in it already lit and making the air smell sweet.

He then noticed that the mana-suppressing shackles had been removed from his wrists.  
Carefully pushing himself up to a sitting position, Dorian took a moment to rub over the sore, sweaty skin around his wrists, gently moving his hand to loosen the stiff joins up as much as he could. He was still confused, even a little afraid, but at least he had a means to defend himself now, already feeling the familiar surge of mana inside him, flowing through his veins. It was but a trickle for now, but it was familiar and it was welcome. It made him feel better, stronger, more confident and while still weakened, he was able to defend himself now. It was more than what he had had earlier.

Looking around the dark room, his eyes slowly adjusting to the darkness, Dorian tried his best to figure out where he was when he heard voices coming from behind a door.  
He stiffened, his body tensing and he even held his breath as he heard the voices grow louder and louder. The voices were muffled, but it was clear that there were at least two men that seemed to be arguing.  
Frowning, Dorian carefully shifted up from the floor and moved as silently as he could towards the door. His mind was still a bit foggy and he was having a hard time focusing, the voices almost blending into one another as they spoke, but he was able to make out a few of the words as he came closer.

“… work? … fix it. … too long.”

“… complete. … slaves… not missed. … need. … blood.”

Blood..?

Swallowing hard, Dorian pressed his ear against the hard-wooden door, trying his best to gather more information.  
What he heard sickened him.

“This is about fixing him. This… His attitude, his mannerism. It will destroy him. Destroy us. I cannot let him continue like this, I need to change him. I need to help him, no matter what.”

“And we will, Master Pavus. As said, we have all we needed and the preparations are complete. All we need is your son.”

“And this will help? This will fix him?”

“This will let you control and mould his mind to be the son you want him to be, Master Pavus.”

“Good. Then we can proceed while he is still asleep.”

Feeling nauseas, Dorian stumbled back from the door, feeling a sour lump gather in his throat from what he had just heard.  
The voices… One was his father. His father. And they were speaking of a ritual. A ritual to change him. To fix him.

The footsteps came closer and Dorian scrambled to the back of the room, desperately trying to find something, anything to protect himself with. His mana was still gathering, he was still weak and there was no way he could defend himself, especially against his father. He had the advantage of being awake, his father and companion clearly expecting him to still be sleeping, but there wasn’t much else he had going for him.

That’s when he spotted it. Next to the bowl of incense on the table, resting on a large, blood-red silken pillow was a dagger. Elegantly crafted, the blade gleaming in the candle-light, the metal thin, curved and sharp.  
A dagger used for rituals. Blood rituals.

Before he could think, Dorian grabbed it, holding it as he heard the lock to the door open before the door itself was pushed open.  
As the door swung open to reveal his father and his companion, Dorian in turn brought the dagger up to his neck, eyes staring in disbelief at his father. The man he had held above all other. The man that now broke his heart as badly as the day Alexius slipped into depression.

“Do not take another step, father.”

Halward immediately froze, eyes glued on his son and the dagger resting against his throat. “Dorian, what-,” he started, only to be interrupted by Dorian’s angry snarl.

“No ‘what’ from you, father! The only what should come from me, as in what the fuck are you doing?!”

“Dorian,” Halward started as he took one step forward, hand raised. As Dorian pressed the dagger harder to his throat, the thin blade nicking the skin and drawing blood, Halward stopped, inhaling sharply. “Dorian, please don’t-“

“Please don’t what, father,” Dorian spat. “Spill my precious blood? Funny, since you seemed pretty into the idea of manipulating my blood just a couple of minutes ago.”

“Dorian, please. You misunderstand,” Halward continued, trying to regain his composure as he looked at his son. 

“Am I? Or did you not speak to this man about… changing me? Making me better?” Dorian barked, gritting his teeth. “Am I that much of a shame to you, father? Am I that wrong? That disgusting? Because I will have you know, most of what I did, I did because of you and mother. Because you were choking me. Because clearly my best was not good enough!”

“Dorian-,” Halward tried again, but Dorian interrupted him again.

“Dorian what?!,” he spat, eyeing his father hard. “Is it not true?! You did not rent this damn man to change me? With bloodmagic?!”

Halward didn’t respond, looking away from his son for a moment and in that moment, Dorian could feel his heart break.  
He had hoped. Hoped that it was not true. That maybe, just maybe, it was something else, slim as the chance was. Part of him had summoned up the words, thinking up the most vile thing he could and screamed them out in hopes that his father would protest. Tell him no, that he would never stoop so low and yet here they were. The shame so obvious on Halwards face and the pain in Dorian’s chest becoming more and more overbearing.

“Leave,” he snarled, looking at the man who stood next to Halward. “This is none of your concern.”

The man hesitated, but the slight nod from Halward had him moving. “… Contact me later, should the need arise, my lord.”

Halward didn’t respond, but Dorian could see that his father was regaining his composure. His jaw tightened, his eyes trying to lock themselves onto Dorian.

Silence filled the air as the foot-steps from the man grew distant, then finally vanishing.  
Seconds ticked by as the two of them stood there, staring at one another, neither willing to speak first as they both readied themselves for whatever would come.

“Why?” Dorian’s voice was hoarse, the pain obvious as he finally broke the silence, unable to take it anymore. “Why would you do this to me..?”

_‘Why am I not good enough as I am?’  
‘Why can’t you accept me like as I am?’_

Halward looked at Dorian, his eyes pained even as his face hardened. “Because you were getting out of hand, Dorian. You were destroying yourself, destroying us. Destroying the family-name and our reputation. I could not let you continue. I had to stop you.”

“Stop me?” Dorian asked, a bitter laugh escaping him. “Did you not stop for a second to consider just where my anger came from, father? Or were you too busy worrying about our precious reputation to think about that?”

“Because of your selfish desires,” Halward retorted, his eyes flaring with slight anger. “We all make sacrifices, Dorian. The world does not revolve around you and your wishes and desires, neither do they revolve around me and my wishes. Sometimes, one must do what one must do. Such is life and such is the way. Your mother and I tried out best to do what was best for you, but you wouldn’t listen as you rather wanted to chase your selfish-”

“Selfish?!” Dorian let out a snort. “Is me simply wanting to be me selfish?!”

“Your desires were selfish to the family,” Halward replied, gritting his teeth. “And your behaviour-“

“My behaviour was only because you and mother made me hate myself! Because I was never fucking good enough because of the one huge flaw that apparently overshadowed everything else!” Dorian yelled, removing the knife from his throat in favour of pointing it at his father.  
“Why do you think I rebelled, father?! Why do you think I became so stubborn?! You taught me to be stubborn! You taught me to fight for myself! Because the day I realised that nothing I ever did would be good enough in your and mother’s eyes, I stopped caring!”  
He let his lips tug up into a pained, bitter smile. “Do you know how many times I tried killing myself, father? Do you know how many times I put myself in danger because I didn’t care what happened to me? More times than I care to remember because the numbers and episodes bleed into one another now. Because the thought of going to the Maker and Andraste was far more tempting than remaining here, knowing that I would never reach your impossible standards.”

Halward didn’t say anything. He merely stared at Dorian, his face now so hardened that Dorian couldn’t read it anymore.

“You created me, father,” he spat out. “You created what I am. So if you want to blame something, blame the sperm in your fucking ball-sac for not being up to par. Because you made me what I am. You and your fucking legacy. You never did what was best for me. You did the best for you and mother. So I wouldn’t be the shameful son.”  
Unable to hold back the tears of anger, pain and sorrow from appearing in his eyes, Dorian lowered the dagger, hands shaking. “You never fucking understood me, father. Only Alexius did. He was more the father to me than you ever was.”

It was a low blow, but Dorian was hurting and he wanted Halward to hurt just as bad. He wanted to see a reaction, he wanted to see something. Anything.  
He didn’t get that satisfaction.

“Then maybe you should follow in his footsteps.”

The words were hard, low, a perfect match to the hard, blank expression on his father’s face.

“… What?”

“Go. Follow that fool. If you want him as a father, then you are no longer my son.”

“Fath-“

“Get out. You are no son of mine.”

The words cut deep. Deeper than Dorian had expected. He wanted to shout, to scream, to cry, but instead he stared. His expression as blank as his father’s.  
He then dropped the dagger as he started walking, hearing the metal clank against the stone ground.  
“Just so you know, I will prefer for my memorial to be made out of Obsidian,” he spat out as he passed his father, not looking at him as he did so. He didn’t want Halward to see his pain.

Halward didn’t answer and despite Dorian expecting for the dagger to come flying into his back, nothing happened. He was allowed to go free.  
So he kept walking. He kept moving out of the dark hallway, unable to recognise exactly where he was, but he didn’t care. He kept on walking.

The hallway was long, but Dorian soon reached a set of stairs made out of slabs of stone. He ascended them, using his hand to support himself upward until he reached a metal door. He pushed it open, blinking as the sun hit his eyes, momentarily blinding him.  
As soon as his vision returned to him, he looked around, chuckling as he recognised where he was.  
An old graveyard just outside of the main town-square in Qarinus, created centuries ago as a place of memorials. So very ironic and fitting. Almost poetic.  
He had been brought down to what seemed to be a rundown mausoleum, most likely a forgotten crypt of some dishonoured family whose ashes were stored there. Again, the irony felt almost cruel, considering the situation he now found himself in. Disowned by his father. Dishonoured.

That is when it hit him, as he walked down the run-down cobblestone pathway, anger and sadness still burning inside him.

He was on his own now.  
He couldn’t go home, he had no home.  
He had nothing besides the clothes on his back and whatever was left in his coffers at the bank. 

Letting out a pained chuckle, Dorian pressed his hands to his face, a mix of laughter and broken sobs escaping him as he continued walking, no doubt looking like a madman.  
Perhaps he was, for leaving behind a life of status and luxury, all in the name of honesty and being true to himself.  
As he reached the end of the cemetery, Dorian could see the carriage waiting outside, no doubt belonging to his father. He had half a mind to take it, leave his father amongst the forgotten spirits of the past, but in the end his pride managed to overcome his bitterness.  
He was better than that.

So he continued walking, past the carriage and away from his father, trying his best to ignore the pain that was surging through him.  
This was the price he had to pay, he figured. The price of freedom.

He wondered why it tasted so bitter.


	28. Lost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Dorian is offered a helping hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry for being so late with this!  
> I've just worked a lot lately, it has been a very hectic summer for me. We've also gotten a lot of new people at work and I am training a few of them, which is also eating a lot of my time. I am also recently being given a new role at work, which is even more draining, but I am trying my best to deal.  
> But I have not forgotten my art or my fanfics, I promise! I just need some time to finish things!

“You know… You should have contacted me.”

Dorian let out a snort, bringing long, elegant fingers up to his hair so he could tuck some loose strains behind his ear. “And what good would that have served, Magister Tilani,” he asked, his voice flat as the slightly slurred words escaped from his lips.  
“You would have helped me? Brought me back onto my feet? Supported me as I desperately tried to find a new way for myself?”

Maevaris just sighed, having mentally prepared for what was going to be both a hard and heart-breaking conversation. She took in the sight of what had once been a young, beautiful and proud man. A man whose intelligence, talent and heart would have taken him far beyond the skies and stars, if only he had been given the chance.

Now the heart was broken, the spirit crushed and with it, the man. 

Dorian was still well-kept, but he was thinner, his hair longer and his clothes, while finely made, were simpler. It was a man who now lived what some would call a simpler life, but Maevaris knew that Dorian was selling his heart and his soul, just to survive. Nobody knew him as Pavus, not around these parts of Tevinter. Here, he was merely Dorian. No house. No title. Just Dorian. A traveling mage, scholar, drunkard and, for lack of a better word, escort for those interested. Hiding in plain sight as he avoided everyone that had once known him.  
She knew that better than anyone. She had spent weeks trying to track him down before she was finally successful.

“I could have prevented this at the very least,” she murmured, carefully stepping closer to Dorian.

“There was nothing to prevent,” Dorian slurred, looking over at Maevaris with a slight glare as he turned on his seat. “I choose this life. If I wanted something else, I would have made it so.”  
Now that she could see his face, she could see the that Dorian had grown more facial-hair. It was neatly trimmed, just half an inch or so long, but it covered his chin and jawline, circling his mouth and efficiently making him look older. It looked good, but Maevaris immediately understood why Dorian had grown it.   
It was a simple, yet efficient way to hide. Take away his youth and making him look older.

“Dorian-,” she started, only to snap her lips shut as Dorian lifted his hand.

“This was my choice. This is my life. I decide which direction it takes.”

“And this is what you want,” Maevaris asked, frowning some as she folded her arms over her chest, tilting her head as she shot Dorian a challenging look. “Living from hand to mouth based on whatever distant relative who decides to take pity on you? Flirting your way to a good meal? Spreading your legs so you can have a bed to sleep in when money is sparse?”

Dorian flinched, but he didn’t back down. Instead he stood up, swaying slightly on his feet. “This is who I am now, Magister Tilani. The son of House Pavus is dead, I have no title or anything of worth. I am getting by and I doing it by myself.”

“By selling yourself as a common whore?” Maevaris asked. “You are better than that, Dorian. You are an Altus, a- “

“I was an Altus, but no more,” Dorian snapped. “I have never claimed to be better than a whore nor beggar. They do what they must to survive, as I do now. It’s that or crawl back to my father, letting them do that blasted ritual so they can have the precious son they want.”  
Dorian inhaled deeply, his voice shaking slightly as he struggled with remaining stood up. “There is no circle I can go to. No relatives who will take me in. No friends I wish to go to because I will be but a liability, and even then, they are short and far between!”  
Another breath and Maevaris could see that Dorian was visibly shaken. “My next choice? Leave Tevinter, start a-new, except I am useless in anything else save magic! And even then, my heritage and my homelands will follow me as a bad stench! Despised for being Tevinter, despised for being a mage! I have one stigma here at home, another there. In the eyes of the people, be it here or there, I will always have something wrong with me, things I cannot change. I cannot change where I come from, nor can I change who I am!”  
He let himself fall back onto his seat hard, but if the fall hurt, he didn’t show it. “Doomed wherever I go, Magister Tilani. Such is my fate.”

Maevaris looked at him, the sharp look in her eyes replaced with something else before she sighed, moving to sit next to Dorian. Dorian didn’t move away from her, but he didn’t look at her either. Just another thing to break her heart as she saw just how vulnerable Dorian was.  
“… Remember when we first met, Dorian?” she murmured softly after a minute or so of silence. “Remember what I told you then?”

Dorian didn’t say anything. He merely remained slumped on his chair, hand reaching towards a mug with ale.

“I am not going to say I know your pain, Dorian,” she continued, letting Dorian drink.   
“But I know pain. I have lost those who supported me. I lost my husband. And I have experienced the nightmare of reliving the good days of having him by my side. But do you know what I did?”  
She looked at Dorian, smiling some as she reached out her hand, brushing the long, black hair away from his face. “I refused to give up. I remembered that I had people behind me, people I could trust. People who loved me and accepted me for who I am. Not a day goes by without someone challenging me, just because I am a little different, but I know that is all they have on me. I know they are so scared of me, simply for being me, and I draw strength from that. And I draw strength from the memories I have of my darling husband and my father.”  
She stood up from her seat, but not before giving Dorian’s cheek a kiss. “And you should do the same. There is nothing wrong with being different and you are meant for so much world than drifting in the wind like this. You have yet to bloom and I want to see it when you do, Dorian. Draw strength from those who oppose you because they are afraid of you and what you can become.”

She gave Dorian one final smile as she straightened up. “I will be here in town for a few days, Dorian. If you wish to see me, if only to have a glass of wine, then come to the Draco Forti. I have a room there.”  
And with that she left, leaving Dorian to his own thoughts.

With a snort, Dorian just waved her off, turning back to stare at the half-empty mug of ale he had been attempted to drink. His mood had turned sour, but he knew it was only party Maevaris’ fault. Mostly, he was angry at himself. Himself and his stupid pride because deep down inside, he knew that Maevaris was right.  
He had let himself fall into pieces with no care to try and rebuild himself.

He couldn’t even honestly say how long he had been living the way he had now…

In fact, it was his new state of living it felt like; a state of semi-intoxication. Drunk enough to forget and ignore the pain, but sober enough to know what he was doing. To remain in control.  
Still, it was pathetic and Dorian knew it, but he had long since stopped caring about that. It was unsightly, yes, and those closest to him would say it was beneath him, but Dorian relished in it instead. He took pride in it because it was the only thing he had, and he decided he could, and would, control it. His life was finally his own and he was the one deciding that he could dump it down the privy if he wanted to.

After all, there was no longer any difference between him and the average low-life gutter-trash now. He was just better dressed.

This was his worth now as far as he was concerned.

Still, he remembered the day when he had left the damn crypt and turned his back on everything he had ever known like it had been yesterday…

While Dorian was a man of pride, he wasn’t above being extremely petty and once he reached the town-square, he headed straight to the bank to retrieve money, flashing the Pavus birth-right while he still could.  
He hadn’t taken much, just enough so he survive while he planned his next step.

Problem was, he had had no idea where to even start or what to even do. He still didn’t.

The only thing he’d known for certain was that he couldn’t go back. He couldn’t go home.  
His father had burned that bridge the second he had let the idea of using bloodmagic to change him, and even now Dorian could feel the hurt and rage inside himself from the knowledge of it.

What was worse still was that there was this little voice that had spoken in his head. A voice that still spoke to him, no matter how much he tried to ignore it: the voice that asked him if it just wouldn’t be easier to do it? Easier to just pretend and live a carefree life in luxury while letting the world pass him by?

It would be easier indeed.  
But it wouldn’t be right.

So, he had ended up drifting. He had left Qarinus and headed for Minrathous, hoping that the city would be able to hide him for long enough to plan his next step. Exactly what he had been hiding from, he hadn’t been sure off, but it was a reflex.   
After all, hiding was something he was very good at.

That was one of the good things with going to the capital of Tevinter; the amount of people from all walks of live gathered there, creating the perfect hiding-place for a pariah such as himself, at least for the moment. But where he once had walked the streets proudly with his head held high, Dorian had found himself hiding in the darkest corners of whatever pub or inn he found himself in.

He knew he had all but lived on borrowed time; his funds were limited and because of his family name, he had few ways to make an income.   
He was smart, yes. Knowledgeable, talented, but without a name to show for there were few who would hire him. After all, those he could offer his services to had little to no extra gain by employing him; they couldn’t win any favours with the ex-son of the Pavus household so what was the point? And because of the way he left the circle, and the fact that he now was without a name or sponsor, he could just about forget about returning there.

Dorian had considered writing to the few contacts he had, but in the end, he had refrained from doing so. He didn’t want to bother anyone with his own troubles, but he also felt overwhelmed.   
He had no idea what to do or where to even start so in the end, he had just started. All he knew was that he couldn’t stand being near his family, couldn’t stand the thought of seeing that face again and so he had left. He had managed to get a spot on the first and best carrier he could find, and let it take him away, as far away from Minrathous as he could get.

Then he had drifted, from one town to the next, seeing more of Tevinter than he had ever done in his life, but unable to enjoy much of it.  
Everywhere he went, he felt sick to his stomach because all he could see was that everything was the same. The system was the same, the attitude was the same and the more he travelled, the more of an outside he had felt like.  
He had felt despair, loneliness. He had cried, he had acted out in rage, he had even tried to end his life a few times, only to find that he was too afraid to actually do so.

And now he was here, drinking in a small inn at the back-end of the Tevinter countryside and wondering where he was going next.  
Wrinkling his nose some, Dorian tried to push the memories of those days back behind the fog of alcohol, taking another deep gulp, and efficiently emptying his mug with ale with the action, in an attempt to add more fog to his mind.

Still, there was that part of him, that part he had tried to silence and bury deep within himself, that had woken up from seeing Maevaris again.  
That part of him that tried to tell Dorian to fight. That part of him that told him that this, all of this, could be changed, but someone had to stand up and throw the first stone.  
Maevaris was already fighting, but she needed more people to stand up. More people to add their voice to the cause.

He pondered, even as the alcohol did it’s best to bring his mind back into the comfort of the fog. He traced the rim of his mug with his finger, letting his eyes focus on the gesture as he let his mind shake off the fog and rise back up into action.

Was he strong enough? Could he do it?  
It would hurt, that much he knew. He would get looks. Comments. Allying himself with Maevaris, who was already a large target not only because of her marriage to a Dwarfen merchant, but because of her lifestyle, would bring more eyes on him.  
Could he handle that? Was that not, in part, what he had wanted? To live and show himself as he was instead of living a lie?

He wasn’t sure he could.

Still, even as he got up from his chair and headed to his room, Dorian kept thinking about it. In fact, he kept thinking about it for the next two days, hardly leaving his room as he went back and forward with himself.

It was a chilly evening on the third day of pointless argument with his own mind that Dorian just did it. He headed to the Draco Forti and after being pointed in the direction of Maevari’s room, he knocked and waited.  
When she opened the door, giving him a pleased smile, he scoffed and waved at her. “Don’t be smug. You’ll let it get to your head.”

She just chuckled and opened the door fully for him. “Come on in, Dorian.”

And he did.


End file.
